Living for your job
by AimeeMcGee
Summary: How far are you ready to go to protect the ones you care about, and what can be the consequences of such involvement ? Won't say more, you'll have to read to know. Disclaimer : I do not own NCIS. The characters belong to D. P. B, and I make no money off this. Now complete.
1. Birds flying high

Leroy Jethro Gibbs breathed out and kept the tears away, looking at it. Existence always seemed like something so long and vast at first, something we could almost make longer every new generation...so why this representation looked so minimalist in his mind ? Thinking of it, he realized he had never really cared about such thing in the past, but recent events had been so powerful that he was now struggling with what was supposed to be his usual opinion.

''That was a great agent we had here, Gibbs.''

Leon Vance slowly approached from behind and finally stood next to where Jethro was, arms crossed.

''I agree, Director'' he said with a personal neutral tone, not blinking a bit.

A few words followed the peaceful silence, someone carefully speaking.

''Why do I feel like something is bothering you ?'' Vance asked in the end.

''Why should something bother me, Director ?'' Gibbs asked him back, still staring at the infinite landscape.

Vance smiled.

''Yeah, I think I already heard that one.''

Jethro's front hair slightly fled, sun accompanying the soft breeze, lightening the calm outside. He silently breathed in and out again, before turning back.

''It's not important how we end up. What matters is how we live.''

''That is certainly true.''

Leon coldly nodded, not daring crossing the line. It was hard dealing with mourning when someone wouldn't accept taking a five-minute break with his emotions.

''Go home and spend time with your family, that is what really matters.''

''A wise man, like always...''

''I never said so.''

A hand clumsily grabbed his forearm all of a sudden.

''Gibbs, I am sorry for your loss.''

Grey hair stopped flying, his eyes on him, but seeming so far away at the same time.

''It's just a stone, Leon.''

''I know.''

''Don't stay here for too long, Leon, focus on the living. You know where to find me'' he ended saying, noticing the tired facial traits.

The NCIS Special Agent slowly pronounced his last few words and gently patted him on the shoulder, finally leaving. Leon Vance then watched him respectfully crush the grass, walking away, and sighed. He took off his black hat, ready to say it aloud and alone. It was obvious what was Gibbs' frustration all about, even if it was just a way to escape reality for a while, replacing one pain by another... Stone looked pretty small for someone who had lived.

''Well,'' he spoke once more, clearing his throat, ''I think it is my turn to say goodbye...'' Leon Vance pressed his hat against his chest, his long coat stroking his ankles. ''It won't be long'' he said as a promise, smiling. ''Like our dear friend Jethro, it seems like I've never been good with long speeches. Well,'' he added, nervous, ''do rest in peace, Agent...''

A bunch of birds suddenly fled next to him, the sound of their wings, cutting the air, covering the one of his own voice. Leon closed his eyes for a second and enjoyed the feeling of the wind on his face, stroking his tired cheeks.

Today was a beautiful day.


	2. Agent Fornell

_(One month ago... )_

The man walked past the security agent after showing his badge, grinning. Every time it was the same feeling. Entering that building had a certain taste of sweet revenge...

''...come on, twelve bucks for a damn meatball burrito ? Let me tell you that when I was younger, that thing cost less than five, _and_ that meant extra cheese included !''

''Oh _really_, Tony, that's quite a price difference. Five bucks when you were younger, you say ? And how old are you now, then ?'' Ziva asked him, chuckling.

''Old enough to make you go to hell, David.''

Ziva squinted her eyes, as if she was about to kill him, and went back to her desk, looking for her own food bag.

''How can the two of you eat such thing everyday ? It's nothing but industrial and fat ingredients !''

_''Don't listen to her, you are beautiful...''_ Tony whispered to his own burrito, before taking a bite of it. He briefly exhaled, seeming to express a feeling of deep happiness, and took a serious look at it._''Wait, beautiful, but expensive...just like women...''_ he suddenly realized, now lost in his strange thoughts.

''McGee, come on...'' Ziva added after rolling her eyes, her voice turning unnaturally softer. ''I can share my food with you if you renounce to your unhealthy one, you know, the place where I buy mine is a traditional one. Home made and delicious.''

_''Please, not that haggis again...''_ Tony unexpectedly emerged and whispered with an obvious desperation, his mind remembering that previous diner.

Tim swallowed with difficulty, saliva stuck inside his throat.

''McGee ?'' Ziva insisted, her bag in hands, coming closer.

''I...uh...''

Tim tightened his grip around his burrito, feeling guilty but incapable to fight his own demons, and finally walked away from the bullpen.

_(Ding...)_

''Hey, don't take it personally, David. Little Timmy has a sensible stomach...'' Tony said, faking empathy.

''_What_, no one liked that food from the other night, _really_ ? Gibbs...'' she almost begged, approaching his desk.

''Nothing better than steak and fries...''

_''...and Bourbon !''_

Gibbs raised an eyebrow as he saw him enter the bullpen and immediately stood up, ready to bite.

''Tobias. I thought this building was safe. I guess I'll have to tell the Navy to double-check the people coming in...''

''Alright, alright, slow down, grandpa, I'm not here to visit your team.''

He came closer to Gibbs and they then faced each other, like they always did every time they were about to stand in the same room together.

''You're never coming here to visit my team, Tobias'' Jethro retorted straight away, almost groaning.

Fornell pressed a palm against his chest.

''That _hurts_, Leroy...! Come on, after all the things we've been through ? After all the things we've been sharing ?'' he said, exaggeratedly.

''Like what ? Grey hair ?''

_''Yeah, or your wife...''_ Silence suddenly filled the space as Tony brusquely stopped joking, meeting both men's terrible gazes. ''Uh...boss ? McGee...?'' he finally called louder, begging for a way to escape.

Tim heard his name and innocently went back to the bullpen, trying weeping off the crumbs around his lips. He suddenly swallowed with difficulty again as he stopped and stood still, noticing the unexpected duet.

''So what is it for this one, now ? Cake time ?'' Fornell reacted ironically.

''Nope,'' Tim coldly commented Tony's situation, instantly freezing. ''Not helping you with this one.''

''I think it's mostly about 'saving' him, McGee'' Ziva proudly corrected, laughing.

''Boss...I...'' Tony nervously tried to explain, watching Gibbs dangerously walk in his direction.

_\- Thwack ! - _

Jethro kept Tony's silly magazine in hand and walked back to Fornell, facing him once more.

''What, you old man, you're gonna hit me with that, too ? I'm more into romantism, if you don't mind.''

''_Why_ are you here, Tobias ?'' Gibbs insisted in the end, already too impatient.

''Some Navy guy hacked a part of our system. We don't know yet what he was exactly looking for, we managed to get a few experts on the hit...''

''What's his name and where's the last place he's been seen ?'' he interrupted him.

''Ah, now you're being curious, uh...!'' Fornell exclaimed, grinning. He took a look at Tim, who had finally sat down, silently inviting him to type. ''Marine Guillermo Jersey...'' he continued straight away, the ID of the man quickly showing up on the screen.

''It's just a kid'' Gibbs neutrally said, staring at the lightful rectangle.

''Quite a newbie. Twenty-four, actually. Never been on the battlefield, no criminal record. Single.''

''Last place ?'' Jethro repeated.

''Bethesda Hospital. Gunshot.''

_''When ?''_ Gibbs insisted.

''Today. I paid him a visit, first. Sorry, man.''

''Wait, _today_ ?! Is that a joke ?'' Tony spoke, standing up.

Gibbs' forehead almost touched Fornell's, this time, and he raised an eyebrow, suspicious.

''Actually, I was about to ask you the same thing ! Is he handcuffed ? Have you been interrogating him, already ?''

''Well, I don't think handcuffs are a first necessity, Jethro...''

''And why that ?'' Ziva asked, approaching, too.

''Because he's been in a coma for two months, and I'm pretty curious to know how an unconscious guy has been able to hack the FBI, especially without his computer...

''...or his mind awake.''

They immediately stared at him altogether, bewildered and very interested all at once, but Jethro could only notice the thing that always annoyed him in the corner of his eye...he could see it. That stupid grin again.

"What's the problem, now, Tobias ?" he questioned him.

''Yeah...nothing. I mean, you know. That's what I just said, Jethro'...' Fornell almost whispered, amused.

''Well, you didn't exactly said it that way'' Gibbs instantly retorted, cold as stone, confronting him.

''Oh come on, now you're making fun with words, grandpa ? There's no need to use synonyms when I already shared the info with your guys : 'asleep', 'not awake', 'unconscious', that's pretty all the same, you know...''

Gibbs pointed a finger at him, angry as hell.

''...you call me that name again, you bald man, and I swear I'll..''

''_Hey_, dads one and two ! Not in front of the children, remember ?'' Tony nervously dared saying, waiting for orders.

Gibbs heavily sighed and kept himself away from sharing another head slap, wanting to focus on the new case as soon as possible.

''Alright, Dinozzo...''

Both men brusquely faced each other and interrupted their speech as they pronounced his name at the same time.

''Sorry. _Your_ team'' Fornell carelessly apologized.

''Dinozzo...'' Jethro repeated, sighing. ''You come with me at the hospital. McGee...''

''Yeah, boss ?''

''You find as much as you can about our Marine. Money transfers, how many bank accounts, trips, I want to know _everything_, don't forget any detail...''

''On it, boss."

"Ziva...''

''...I find people who know him and gather any info about him that might help us with the case.''

_"Nice little soldiers, these people that you have, Gibbs...you want to share your potential with my men and do some coaching with them ?"_

Jethro rolled his eyes and started moving in the elevator's direction, Fornell imitating him.

''Dinozzo !''

''Yes, boss ?''

''If you want to start dating a woman, try, at least, the ones wearing pants !''

''Yes, boss'' Tony automatically answered, the male hand throwing his magazine in the bin, breaking his heart.

Gibbs finally turned back and faced Fornell for the umpteenth time in minutes, bothered by his presence.

"What are you doing, Tobias ? You're following me now ?"

"Well, this is a mutual case, of course I am following you !"

"Yeah, this is 'mutual' but you paid him a visit without calling us. Not what I can call a collaboration."

"Well, if you call it a visit, seeing a man sleep... Oh, come on, Jethro," Fornell complained more energetically, this time, watching him press the elevator button, "you would have done the exact same thing !"

"Nope.''

''No ?''

''I would have taken the case."

_"What..."_ Both metallic doors opened and the trio entered the silver cage, tension being palpable between the two eldest men. "What does that even _mean_ ?"

"You say something, you tell everything. You don't, you shut your mouth" Tony explained quickly, Gibbs reflexively agreeing with his words.

"Who's that whippersnapper, anyway ?" Fornell commented, upset, his eyes on Tony. Gibbs discreetly smiled and turned serious again while the elevator kept moving for a few seconds more, ready to reach the lobby. Doors finally opened when they arrived downstairs, Jethro leaving first. "You know what ? You're right. Next time I won't tell you. After all, your Navy guy is asleep, isn't it, and who can tell the real guilty one is from your big team ? I mean, if Ducky's not involved, then why should NCIS bother after all ?" The opposite blue eyes, staring at him, provided him the answer he needed and he then left the building in their company, soundlessly observing them from behind. But his phone quickly broke that same silence, the ring of it penetrating his thoughts. "Fornell" he said automatically, listening to the female voice on the other side of the line, walking. He nodded a few times to himself and formulated a sharp goodbye once she got finished, now facing a very impatient Gibbs in the parking lot. Both NCIS agents had entered Jethro's car when Fornell knocked at the passenger side window, resting his arm on the vehicle's roof.

"_What_, Tobias ?" his interlocutor asked.

"Gibbs, I now know what our secret guy hacked in the FBI system, and this is not good at all."

"That bad ?" Tony wondered, Gibbs, himself, secretely looking for some kind of confirmation.

"Yes, kid, that bad. Gibbs," he added, looking at him, "I think we have a problem."


	3. Agent DiNozzo

''...I swear to God, Ziva, it was like watching Sleeping Beauty in person, but in a male version, with Gibbs playing the prince part, and I couldn't tell whether he was about to kiss him or shoot him in order to get answers.''

''Oh, I think I know that film, isn't it the one with that cute little deer called...''

''You're talking about Bambi, Ziva'' Tim corrected once he saw them come, smiling.

Tony kept walking to his desk but didn't take a look at him.

''We don't listen to him anymore, Ziva. This man refused to save me when I needed help, he's now blacklisted.''

Tim rolled his eyes and kept working on his computer, his colleagues sitting down.

''So Fornell was right behind us,'' Tony continued his gossip, ''pretending he was giving us some space to observe the man, but it was _so_ obvious that Gibbs wanted to kill him...''

''...wait, Fornell stayed in the room with you ?'' she asked, extremely curious. ''Why ?''

''Oh, yes. Gibbs was very silent, as usual, but I could perfectly guess his dark, wild thoughts... At this moment he considered Fornell as...''

_''...The Invader !''_

Jethro's calm but deep voice suddenly resonated in the bullpen, the man approaching his agents, coffee between hands.

"Well, that's not the word I would have exactly chosen, to be honest, it sounds a lot like Sci-Fi, but...''

_\- Thwack ! -_

''I am not damn talking about Fornell, Dinozzo ! That's the new damn name of our man. Case is officially open.''

''Mutual ?'' Tim innocently dared, Tony reflexively slapping his own forehead.

Tim met Gibbs' terrible gaze and instantly regretted.

''I said 'case is open', McGee ! Final.''

''Got it, boss'' he answered straight away, swallowing with difficulty.

Gibbs finally walked to Tony's personal space and confronted him once more. He slightly shook his head and questioned him, neutral.

''A prince, Tony ? Really ?''

Tony immediately over-smiled, extremely nervous, and Ziva instantly grabbed the phone on her desk, pretending to be busy.

''Hey...boss. You know, when I was talking about... I mean,'' he tried to keep explaining, his face crumbling, ''when I said 'kiss', I didn't really _mean_ kiss, but more like, you know...what dudes do when they say hi to each other, slaps in the back and 'rrrrrrrh'...'' He instantly cursed himself for his words choice and instinctively lowered his head, ready for the worst. ''Am I safe...?'' he quickly wondered in the end, the back of his skull not feeling a thing, footsteps miraculously moving away from him.

_''What was that, Tony ? A tiger roar ?''_ Ziva whispered with disdain as she walked past his desk, everyone following Gibbs to the screen.

''Kinda'' he calmly pronounced, swallowing his pride. He cleared his throat and finally joined the trio, his eyes on Marine Guillermo Jersey's ID. ''Can we know who he is, boss ? The one pretending to be him.''

''Not yet. But we will.''

''What was he looking for ?'' Tim asked.

''Or _she_.''

''Come on, Ziva, the probabilities for...'' Tim's confident grin suddenly vanished as he met Ziva's eyes. ''So what was she or he looking for, boss ?''

''Tobias said The Invader had had time to open a part of the historic files.''

''Meaning ?''

''Meaning tens and tens of files listing previous attacks, how the terrorists planed these said-attacks and how the FBI managed to stop them. They're still keeping an eye on it. Now they hope it didn't mention any detailed attacks they actually _couldn't_ stop, otherwise the story is about to get darker.''

''The Navy hacking the FBI and accessing these files, that's gonna be bad publicity for us'' Tony commented.

''But he's in a coma, Tony, that is just not possible for people to believe...''

''Yeah, tell that to the press.''

''DiNozzo is right. They won't care. They'll just remember suspicion and terrorism, and they'll easily make a link between the two agencies'' Gibbs thought aloud, already upset. ''Ziva, has Marine Jersey ever been in a relationship with anyone from the FBI ? Friends ? Girlfriend, maybe ?''

''I checked, Gibbs, and the answer is no. No friends, nor any family, or any kind of relatives working for the FBI he might know of.''

''Accounts okay. No abnormal money transfers'' Tim added.

''Do you think it can be someone working for them ?'' the female agent insisted.

''Currently ? No. Not anymore. That'd be too dangerous. Too many eyes on the case.''

''Then someone who _has_ worked for the FBI ?'' Tim said.

''That's the closest clue we have for the moment. Ziva, call Fornell and tell him to check anyone who might have left the FBI, or even taken a vacation within the last two, three months. Maybe six.''

''Make that longer'' Tony interrupted him, looking at his colleagues.

''Yeah, as the list of suspects.''

''I know that, boss,'' Tony continued, approaching him, ''but if we are talking about terrorism, then I seriously doubt that our Invader hasn't been planing it for a while. We're not talking about people leaving bombs here and there, but intellectuals. Someone opened these files to access details, itineraries, techniques, so if we work on that hypothesis, he certainly wouldn't do the mistake to quit at the very last minute.''

''You think that Jersey could have been put in a coma voluntarily ?''

''No link found between our man and the gunshot. Public area'' Ziva answered, ready to dial a number.

Gibbs started walking back and forth in the bullpen, irritated.

''Why do I only hear about this now ? Whatever the reason, a Marine has been wounded ! Where are the damn reports ?''

''Another team had taken the case, Gibbs, we were already busy with another one. But they found nothing, no one...''

''There's always a witness. Walker, homeless, even nature signs, maybe !''

Tony suddenly raised a hand and approached Jethro, ready to continue his speech and interrupt the coming anger. At that stage, it was only useless to overreact, and pretty stressful anyway to watch Gibbs blame the world for something they weren't guilty for.

''Whatever, boss'' he said all of a sudden. ''My point is : that same person hacking the FBI could _have_, or could have _not_ put our victim in a coma, but if yes, then the last few months would certainly be too short. I think of something like a year of preparation, if not more, whoever it might concern.''

_''More ?''_

Tony turned back and faced Tim and Ziva, this time, seriouser than ever.

''These people are driven by rage, alright, whatever the reason for it, but they all have _one_ thing in common...''

''...they're patient'' Ziva suddenly understood his point of view and ended his sentence, supported by Tony's gaze.

''Our Invader can have started alone, but if he's the one who has provoked Jersey's coma, then it must have needed preparation. There's no such thing as coincidence, is it, boss.''

''Doesn't mean he's needed twelve months to get ready.''

''Maybe not, boss. But even the tougher guys never really play solo. If he didn't necessarily have to wait for a bunch of friends to come over and join him from the beginning, he'll need people to execute his plan. He might only be the geek of the team.''

''You think he could send infos to others in order to do his part'' Tim commented.

Tony simply nodded, for once, there was nothing to add. Gibbs had listened to everything they'd said, too. He sighed and shook his head in Ziva's direction, new energy running through his veins.

''Ziva, keep looking.''

''But Gibbs,'' she tried retorting, ''I haven't found any relationsh...''

''Then look better !'' he sharply ordered, already focused on further thoughts. ''Tony, go to Abby's lab and double-check any details they've found on that day, when Jersey has been shot.''

''Abby's lab. Got it.''

Gibbs quickly watched Ziva sit behind her desk and Tony run to the elevator, his eyes now ready for their new target. He could hear the woman talk to Fornell on the phone, and he was actually glad he hadn't to do it. In fact, he had another important mission to start with someone else.

_''Boss...?''_ Tim dared in the end, worried but curious. ''What do I do ? Do I keep looking for the computer ? Maybe I can tr...'' Jethro finally made a few steps forward in his direction, decided, and pressed both forearms on his agent's desk. He then strangely stared at Tim, who immediately realized he had an idea in mind. _''Boss ?''_ he finally repeated, now feeling secretely anxious. ''What am I supposed to do ?''

''Our man, McGee'' Gibbs pronounced, determined. ''I want you to get into his head.''


	4. Agent McGee

Tim observed the bullpen and the people working around him, trying to focus, wondering if he could really compare his own situation to someone else's. He rubbed his forehead and oriented his eyes on his computer, memories penetrating his mind...

_''I will never be like you. Not really.''_

_''What do you mean, McGee ?''_

_''I'm not a field agent.''_

_''You're not ?''_

_Tim briefly chuckled and looked away from Gibbs for a minute, eyes on the boat._

_''You know what I mean, boss. I went to the MIT, I'm not like Tony, or Ziva. Not like you.''_

_''Well, good for us we're not all damn clones on this earth.''_

_''Computers are my world'' Tim added almost straight away, as if to apologize. _

_''I'm waiting for the end of your sentence'' Gibbs calmly pronounced while emptying two glasses of their screws, grabbing the bottle next to them. Tim slightly smiled and took a new look at Jethro as he started facing him again. There was something a bit sad about him, maybe nostalgic, something Gibbs wasn't really sure how to name at the very moment. ''You're an agent, McGee'' he finally continued and gave him some Bourbon, not getting any reaction in return._

_''I know, boss. It's just...I only feel that I'm not exactly on the same level as you all. I haven't been trained at first to be...''_

_''...a field agent, I know._ _You've already said that. Now what, Tim ? What is your fear about all this ?''_

_Tim slowly breathed in and took a sip of the strong liquid. He then softly stroked the wood next to him, wondering if he even was allowed to._

_''I'm afraid I might let you down one day because we don't have the same kind of...skills.''_

_Jethro raised an eyebrow and slowly approached Tim, pressing a hand on his shoulder._

_''Rule 51, McGee.''_

_''Rule 51 ?'' Tim repeated, confused. ''What is rule 51, boss ?'' __Gibbs could see Tim's brain getting more active now, as if the perfect intellectual he was now needed to check if he had learned his lessons. ''I'm...sorry, boss,'' he said in the end, ''I'm afraid I don't remember which rule you are talking about.''_

_''Sometimes you're wrong.''_

_Tim's hand unconsciously tightened around his small glass. _

_''I didn't know that rule, boss'' Gibbs' agent finally confirmed. _

_''Me neither. But one day something made me change my mind.''_

_Tim grinned a bit sadly and took a look at the brown inside of his glass, thinking aloud. _

_''And you hope it'll change mine, now.''_

_''Exactly.''_

Files brusquely falling on his desk suddenly made him jump on his seat, interrupting his thoughts.

''Yo, McGeek, don't you think it's time to work, instead of nap time ?''

Tim immediately sighed and refocused on his screen, secretly mad to have been found by Tony in such a vulnerable state.

''What is it, Tony ?'' he asked the smiling man, trying not to groan.

''Preselection, McGeek.''

''Tony...''

''We've found eight men and women who could match our Invader's profile, if we do consider he or she was part of the FBI. One still in medical leave, one in vacation, three undercover, two resignations and one promoted, in charge of a new team in Mexico. They all had the authorizations to access the system, and especially these documents. You read, we contact them.''

''Alright, Tony, I'm gonna look at their profiles. But what if our suspect _isn't_ from the FBI ? I know it would require a lot of skills to hack their database, but it can still be possible for...''

''You mean for some geeks like you, McGeek ?''

''Tony, could you please stop...''

''Anyway, that's all we have for the moment, McGeek, so work on their profiles until we have something new to explore, then we'll...''

''Could you stop calling me like this for once in your life ?'' Tim suddenly exclaimed, standing up.

''Why, Tim, aren't you one of them ?'' the other male agent smiled and started questioning his teammate, facing him. ''Gosh, this is just a nickname, a joke, relax, Tim. Why do you always have to be so sensitive ?''

Tim heavily breathed in and out and spit the words, not noticing Gibbs and Ziva down the silver stairs.

''I've always been wondering, Tony, are you constantly trying making fun of me like someone would do with a member of his family, or is it just a way for you to evacuate everyday's pressure with any target in here at NCIS ? What, pretty girls weren't available today ?''

Tony suddenly raised both eyebrows, bewildered.

''Hey, what the hell, McGee ? What's going on with you ?''

''Nothing'' Tim answered and got rid of the hand on his shoulder, rolling his eyes.

''Great, then why don't you just work on these files I gave you, like I just told you to do, in order to find our new terrorist of the month ? In case you haven't heard Gibbs earlier, this is non-negotiable.''

''Can't Fornell's team do that, themselves ?''

''Not for now. They just called to say they might have a hit on...''

''..._something_, yes, so they're probably already on the field.''

''What...'' Tony tried to say, still not understanding what on earth had just happened because of a way he had used to call him. ''You know what ? Just do your damn job, Tim, and tonight we'll all go home and sleep. You seem to be needing it anyway. Hey,'' he continued, ''where are you going with these things ?''

_''Working away from you, Tony !''_

The voice resonated in a corner of the bullpen as the first male agent vanished from that same place, the second one raising both arms in the air.

''Unbelievable.'' Tony's palms were softly hitting his hips, falling down, when Gibbs confronted him. ''Hey, boss. You heard that ? What the hell happ...'' A hand unexpectedly slapped the back of his head, so he looked for a supportive figure, but Ziva's face didn't share any compassionate reaction. ''What was that ? Did we just witness two different situations, or...'' Another slap hit his skull and he felt like he was about to kill someone, this time. ''Goddamn it,'' he desperately said, ''what the hell did I...''

''Leave the boy alone, DiNozzo'' Gibbs' calm voice threatened him.

''I'm gonna talk to him'' Ziva immediately proposed, but Jethro's palm stopped her.

''Don't. I'll talk to him later. Now he's got to review different profiles to see if they could coincide with the kind of suspect we're looking for, and thanks to Tony, he's a raw nerve. He'll work better.''

_''I'm glad I've helped...''_ Tony lowly complained from behind his desk, groaning, but Gibbs' terrible eyes made him close his mouth for the biggest part of the day...

* * *

...The beep of his phone took him out of his dreams, his head aching. Years and years later, he was still sleeping extremely bad. He rubbed his forehead, secretly cursing duties and honor for a second, before pressing the green button of the item.

''Gibbs.''

_''Boss, it's me.''_

''McGee ?'' Jethro asked, taking a look at the time. 5 a.m. Someone was really working hard out there. ''What's happening, McGee ?'' he continued, reflexively heading to the kitchen.

_''Well, I've been reading everything I could about the different profiles. By the way, did you finally manage talking to all of them ?''_

''We had the lead agent in Mexico through MTAC. They continue the investigation on-site. Fornell's team reached the other ones, except the one on vacation and the one on medical leave we're still trying to contact. But that's not why you called, is it, McGee ? You could have asked me at work'' Gibbs wondered, now grabbing a cup for an early morning coffee.

_''You know me well, boss.''_

''So ?'' the male voice said, the man preparing his drink.

_''Boss, I'm not sure this is all about the FBI.''_

''We can't get rid of the two missing agents, McGee, including further investigations about them all.''

_''I know. I know, but still, I think we might go the wrong way.''_

Jethro sighed and rubbed his forehead again. Tim thinking at 5 a.m. certainly meant something.

''Whenever you're ready, Tim...''

_''Okay, so I was thinking : all these agents have or had the authorizations to access these files, right ? So trying to access them, if we believe they tried their own, traditional way, should have been immediately noticeable.''_

''I'm sure they could manage other ways, Tim. Now what I asked you was to get into our suspect's head, not to stay awake at night. Did you even sleep ?''

_''I couldn't, boss. The problem is, besides the lack of infos we have about our suspect, that I was trying to get into his head, wondering 'what would I think if I was hacking the FBI ?', but...''_

''So what is your gut telling you, Tim ?'' Jethro asked him all of a sudden, taking a first sip of his coffee.

_''I didn't want to call Ducky, not at that time, but I thought we might as well explore a psychiatric point of view. Something more about personal revenge, maybe. This is a first idea, of course, but I can't stop telling myself : what if I wasn't someone who had worked for the FBI, but someone who had always wanted to work for the FBI ? In fact, I can't stop picturing this : why not hacking something, especially because this is something I cannot get ?''_ Tim suddenly noticed the silence on the other side of the line and wondered for a second if Gibbs might have fallen asleep... No, that was stupid. Gibbs never was. He was about to say 'boss' again when the whole recent conversation came up to his mind, including a coming headache. Okay, that sounded extremely stupid, now. Very, very stupid. Why even calling Gibbs in the first place ? And what should he do now, hang up ? Yes, he might as well say that he didn't think about it at all anymore, but that would confirm he had woken him up for nothing. _''Boss...?''_ he finally dared pronouncing, impatience now killing him to the bone. _''I...uh, you know, I think I have watched too many thriller movies with Tony...and with the lack of sleep, my mind seems to be messing up with me. I'm sorry. I promise I won't...call again.''_

The sound of someone breathing in suddenly echoed and Tim then strangely feared a bit for his life.

''That sounds quite twisted, McGee.''

_''Like I told you, boss. I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. I'd better try to sleep before head...''_

''That sounds twisted, but that might still be a lead. Interrogation room in thirty minutes.''

_''Wait, what ? But, boss, I don't...''_

''I'll call Ziva and Tony on my way. Don't be late, Tim.''


	5. Agent David

Tony noticed Ziva press the handle and enter the room next to the interrogation one. He couldn't say how she was doing it. Indeed, whatever the time of the day or the night, she always seemed perfectly awake. He put a hand on the door about to close and shared his first tired greetings of the day.

''Good morning, Tony'' she said energetically.

''Good morning, ninja...someone quickly went to bed after work,'' Tony said, rubbing his painful forehead, ''that certainly explains the mood.''

''Actually, Ray and I went for a couple drinks yesterday, and I was finally about to go to bed when Gibbs called.''

The male agent's eyes suddenly opened wide, his teammate instantly smiling.

''What, _again_ ?''

''He is a very well educated man, Tony, he...''

''But _Ray_ ? Come on, David, I couldn't even date someone with that kind of name...''

''Then maybe he's not the right man for you, Tony. Don't worry, I'm sure that one day, you'll find another one.''

''Ah-ah. More seriously, what are we doing here, and why does McGee have to go in there ?''

''How do you know it's McGee ?''

''Because you think Gibbs is gonna be the one interrogated ?''

''Alright, alright, fair enough, but why would he want Tim to be...''

''Because he wants to test him. He seems to feel that McGee might have an idea interesting enough to be explored.''

''But...''

Ziva suddenly stopped talking as she saw Tim walk on the other side of the glass.

''Sit here, McGee, I'm coming back'' Jethro said before leaving him alone.

The slight buzz came to Tim's ears, dim lights darkening his face a bit, and he wondered why he had talked to Gibbs about such things, and why he had to wait in here instead of the bullpen. He almost missed these orange walls, now.

''No one wants to say hello ?'' he asked the invisible, sighing. '' I know you guys are watching.''

_''Not to people waking me up at five on a Sunday morning...''_ Tony complained instantly.

''He can't hear you, you pimp...''

''_Wimp_, Ziva. Do me a favor, next time you want to insult me, Agent David, try at least to make it well.''

''Are you sure it's not pimp ?'' she insisted, dubious.

Tony briefly paused and seriously stared at her.

''I'm positive, Ziva.''

She tried to retort anything but both their bodies suddenly jumped as someone new opened the door, immediately recognizing Gibbs' serious face. Jethro walked to his two agents' spot and unexpectedly stared at Ziva.

''Can I...can I help you, Gibbs ?'' she asked as she turned back, noticing his eyes on her.

''Yeah. Interrogation room. Now'' he answered straight away, nodding.

''Alright, but...do you want me to do some kind of role-play, or...''

''I want you to explore different potential scenarios'' he pronounced, sounding a bit angrier than before.

''Like reverse psychology ?'' Ziva wondered.

''Sorry, boss, but based on what ? I mean, we usually try to profile our suspects, but at this stage we have nothing,'' Tony interrupted him. ''No body, no way to trace him or her, no...''

Gibbs suddenly confronted him, coming closer.

''I don't care if you have been drinking too much yesterday night, or if we have almost nothing to work on, DiNozzo. This is an imminent danger for two agencies and I want answers now !''

Ziva simply nodded this time and left the space they were all in, her silhouette quickly entering the other one in front. She sat on her chair and faced Tim.

''Hello, McGee.''

''Hi, Ziva.''

''Are you ready to try something ?''

''I guess so'' he answered, his eyes reflexively looking for the two other men behind the glass.

''Good, then I want you to close them,'' she said, pointing a finger at his face, ''and to tell me what comes logically to your mind.''

''I can do that.''

''Good. So you told Gibbs about our suspect, that he might be someone who had been rejected by the FBI.''

Tim reopened his eyes instantly, as if to apologize.

''Yes, but again, that was just an idea I had...''

''Tim. Focus.''

''But what if I'm wrong, Ziva ?''

She unexpectedly smiled and stared at him, almost comforting.

''You're a writer, aren't you ?" He nodded. ''Then I'm not gonna teach you anything by telling you this is how it works. You start with loose ideas first and then these same ideas might lead us to something else.''

''Alright'' he spoke, calmer. ''I'm ready.''

''Good. So, why would someone hack the FBI ? Why would you ?''

Tim's eyebrows moved a bit, indicating he was now dealing with deep thoughts.

''Because I want revenge. I wouldn't lose my time taking such risks if it was for nothing.''

''Does that make you happy ?''

''I think I'm enjoying my time accessing these files.''

''Why ?''

Tim unconsciously smiled, his eyes still closed.

''Because I know how to do this. I'm good at it. Maybe one of the best'' he added.

Gibbs slightly grinned as he heard Tim say the words.

''Why did you use Marine Jersey's laptop ? Do you know him ?''

''I used his to cover my tracks. I might not know him personally but I must have observed him at some point. I didn't take a laptop from any stranger. I needed a lot of free space, a quick system for the data transfer, and this guy is a Marine, I mean...''

''I guess there is no such thing...''

''...as coincidence, yes'' Tim ended her sentence, facing her again. ''I might have been here on the day our Marine was shot. Maybe it even was my order, or at least part of my plan.''

''Are you working alone ?'' Ziva continued.

She didn't ask him to face darkness this time. She knew he was now focused enough to answer seriously.

''I doubt so. If I am, then why didn't I put a virus or something in the FBI system ? I might not only be a geek, I wouldn't be an expert on the field all by myself. If it's not hacking for hacking, then I might have sent it to someone. Someone who'll act in my name or not.''

''Someone sharing your interests ?''

''I guess so. We're maybe not very close, but unless I am the victim and therefore under someone else's control, then I'm sending data to someone who's related to my cause.''

''If we consider you are not under someone else's control and doing it on purpose, why downloading details of past terrorist attacks ?''

Tim paused for a second and thought about it. His eyes lightened a bit and the answer came out.

''Two possibilities. I have the savior complex or I want inspiration.''

''Meaning ?'' Ziva questioned him, Tony and Gibbs listening carefully to what he would have to say.

''Maybe I want to see how things turned wrong and teach something to the FBI.''

''Teach ? How ?''

''I don't know...I...''

''Alright, what about inspiration, then ?''

''Maybe I'm planing myself to attack the FBI, and I'll be the closest possible to my goal if I see how they acted in this or that situation, why the inspiration.'' He took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead, a bit tired now. ''All in all,'' he continued, ''the two things can go together. I can have the savior complex and still be looking for inspiration. Therefore I'll make it look like an exercise to the FBI in order for them to be prepared protecting the country.''

Ziva turned back and took a look at the rectangle behind, staring at the invisible, waiting for some silent feedback.

''Can I go now ?'' Tim asked. ''As odd as it seems, I wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee.''

''That's very good job, McGee'' Ziva smilingly said, not minding getting any answer back from the two men. ''We might do that again if we have new elements but I'm sure coffee won't do you any bad.''

''Thanks, Ziva.''

The female agent finally watched him leave the interrogation room and walked, herself, to the previous one she was in, meeting Gibbs and Tony.

''Well,'' she commented, ''I think that was really interesting to start the day. What did you think, Tony ?''

''I think you two are really good at...uh, focusing in the morning. My thoughts aren't that organized at that time of the day...''

_\- Thwack ! -_

''Take some aspirine, DiNozzo !'' Jethro ordered, angry.

''Yes, boss.''

''Good job, Ziva'' Jethro finally said once Tony walked away.

''It's easier to focus when there is no interruption in the dialogue'' she commented.

''You know your job...'' he said in the end, neutral, slightly shaking his head before moving. They soon joined Tony and Tim in the bullpen, Jethro already prepared for new orders. ''Ziva'' he restarted.

''Yes, Gibbs ?''

''I want you to refocus on Marine Jersey's attack. There _must_ be something we're missing. Tony...'' he continued, groaning, noticing the man trying to deal with his still painful forehead.

''Yes, boss ?''

''Go to Abby's lab and take that damn aspirine I just told you to take, or I swear I shoot you in the face to make the pain go away !''

''Aspirine. Abby's lab. Got it'' the male agent quickly pronounced before leaving the bullpen.

''McGee.''

''Yes, boss ?'' he asked in turn.

''Good job.''

''Thanks, boss.''

Jethro furrowed an eyebrow and took a discreet look at him.

''Are you alright, McGee ?''

''Yes, boss.''

Gibbs came a little closer and kept facing the young agent behind his desk.

''I heard what you said about a geek being on field, McGee. You know y...''

_''I know, boss''_ Tim instantly interrupted him. ''I was just picturing myself as our suspect, that's all. I'm fine.''

Gibbs wished he had added something else but now was the time to work on the case. He'd talk to him about this later.  
He went back to work but couldn't repress a sigh minutes later as he heard Tony run in the bullpen again, the man nervously faking a smile.

''Alright, team,'' he exclaimed, ''I've found something in Abby's lab ! In about a moment I'll be completely fresh and clean, and no more damn sound will be able to hurt my beautiful hea...''

Ziva brusquely dropped the phone she was about to use and Gibbs' sigh turned into a heavy exhalation, Tim joining the trio, jumping on his seat.

''What was that ?'' Tony almost shouted, pressing a hand against his definitely aching brain.

Ziva was the first one to reach the large window, back against the wall, reflexively wrapping her hands around her gun.

''Gibbs, explosion of a car in the parking lot !'' she said almost robotically, detailing facts.

''What car ?'' Tim suddenly asked first, as if something big had magically crossed his mind, staying behind his computer.

''Black SUV, why ?''

Jethro took a look at the car, too, and then walked back to Tim's spot, sensing there was something more to that.

''What time is it ?'' he wondered, starting to understand where his agent's thoughts were leading them.

''6:05am, Gibbs !'' Ziva said. ''Shouldn't we go downstairs ?''

''Wait'' Jethro pronounced, raising a hand in her direction, eyes on his agent. They all heard the multiple clicks under their teammate's fingers, worried, and Tim finally opened a document, determined. ''This isn't a coincidence, isn't it'' Jethro pronounced, staring at Tim.

''I was _sure_ I remembered this one !'' he first talked to himself. ''But yes, it isn't, boss'' he continued in the end and faced his interlocutor. "And if they stick to the plan, then our security agent must have already been kidnaped.''


	6. Agent Gibbs

Leroy Jethro Gibbs entered the bullpen again, the _ding_ of the elevator freeing him announcing the beginning of the war. He furiously walked to Tony's desk, his facial expression silently inviting the rest of the team to join him.

''Anything new, boss ?'' Tony asked.

Gibbs' mouth opened once more, not answering the question at all.

''Nobody comes back home before we have any clue of who our man is. Am I clear !'' he insisted, staring at Tim and Ziva, too.

''Crystal, boss.''

''Fornell is interrogating everyone in the team...''

''...that'll be a lot of people, what about the few ones we've selected ?''

''We don't care about them only anymore, Tony, now everyone is considered guilty _and_ in danger ! Now you go with Ziva at Mrs Solomon's place.''

''Protective custody, Gibbs ?'' Ziva asked, neutral. ''You think our suspect could go there and finish the work ?''

''Boss,'' Tim interrupted the duet, ''if our suspect is copying previous cases then there is no mention of woman and kids being killed after the security man's kidnaping.''

''I'm certainly not gonna take that risk'' Jethro answered straight away, sighing. He then started walking to the elevator, furious and neutrally worried, as he used to be so often. ''Tim, with me at the hospital'' he continued before entering the silver cage with him.

''Is the parking lot safe again ?'' Tony wondered as he made a few steps, Gibbs simply nodding in return.

''Do Abby and Ducky ha...''

''...the evidences of that day at Bethesda in Abby's possession,'' Tim confirmed, ''and Marine Jersey's medical file in Ducky's, yes. They're done with the explosive SUV, seems like there is no danger anymore, the vehicle will be sent to Abby as well.''

''Good. Tony, Ziva...'' he spoke again, the second duet joining the elevator.

''...we stay there until another team is sent for their protection'' the female agent said.

''Ask his wife if he is related to anyone from the FBI. There has to be a link.''

''Why, boss ? Isn't it a case for the NCIS, now ?''

''Mutual case, DiNozzo ! Double-check with his family if he knew the previous security man we had as well, although I'm not sure it might be related if our suspect only copies past events.''

Tony's eyes opened wide for a second, the whole group impatiently waiting to go down...

''Why ?'' he repeated, calmer, noticing Jethro's heavy sigh. ''Why mutual ? You almost swallowed your tongue when Fornell talked about it, and now this is something mandatory ? _Hey_, Tim, what's in the file ?'' he insisted, worried. ''I don't remember reading any case file starting with a burning SUV...''

''Reports has been made about ten years ago, but it has been considered as a FBI case. I was only able to read it 'cause they've send them all to me.''

''And what in the world are the names of these pencils pushers ?'' he exclaimed. ''Hello, hasn't anyone seen this huge cloud of smoke through _our_ windows ?''

The young agent reflexively bit his lips and got ready to spit the truth. Tony really seemed worried, for once.

''Years ago,'' Tim ended his explanation, ''the security man has been found dead in a car trunk. Guess who the car was belonging to ?''

One last slight movement from the elevator made them all understand they had reached the ground floor, but none of them could really feel relieved to be able to leave. Too many dark things to face outside...and so little time.

''A FBI car ? What was the name of the agent ?''

''It doesn't matter, Tony,'' Tim continued, the whole group now walking to their vehicles, ''he was on a vacation one week before the victim was killed and found. He'd left his car in D.C. They made an investigation but didn't find any link between the victim and him.''

''_Was ?_ Is he retired ?''

''He's dead now. Natural cause. So it's not like he was about to be taken out of his grave in order for this case to be copied. Actually, it could be anyone, and that's the main problem.''

Tony reflexively nodded and increased his pace, trying to catch Gibbs' arm.

''Wait, boss. This is insane. We need more people on that case.''

''We're having as many people as we can on this one, DiNozzo, but we have other criminals to deal with, we can't afford the entire building.''

''I know, boss, but we still need _more_ people.''

''You're afraid of not getting enough sleep, Tony ? Why don't you get a coffee on your way, my treat'' Gibbs neutrally asked and started opening his car's door.

Tony sighed and pushed the door back to its first position, Jethro watching it close again. Tim and Ziva remained silent for a minute as they arrived, both waiting for their partner to leave.

''This isn't funny, boss. I'm deadly serious. How are we gonna do that ? We need to re-interrogate people from the FBI, and now what ? Our sleeper is a Marine, so why not interrogating the whole NCIS agency ? We need profilers, we still don't know if the copy of this case is personal to our suspect, or if he's gonna do the same with others, we don't know where he is, how many they are...you can make that whole thing turn as funny as you want, Gibbs, if we only get a little extra help our problem won't be about getting any sleep, we'll just die in that bullpen ! We can't handle everything all by ourselves !''

Jethro suddenly came closer, confronting him.

''You think I don't know that, Tony ?''

The agent met Gibbs' terrible blue eyes and felt his own lower lip slightly tremble, as if there was something he should express but might regret saying...there was no need to add anything when Gibbs wasn't ready to listen.

''Boss,'' Tim said, coming closer, our man has been found dead after three days. Shall we expect any new discovery ?''

''Maybe not with a security arrangement. Fornell will make sure every car is being checked the next following days. Now let's go.''

Gibbs paused for a second before opening his door, as if he wanted to see if Tony had something else to say, but he got no specific reaction in return, so he just entered his vehicle. Ziva quickly patted him on the shoulder, inviting him to follow her to their own transportation.

''What's wrong, Tony ?'' she said. ''That's what we signed for, right ? No matter what.''

''I know'' he retorted a bit dryly, starting the vehicle. _''To live for my job...''_ he whispered after some time, groaning.

''What did you say ?'' Ziva asked, taking a look at him.

Tony carefully stared at the road through the windshield, worried and focused.

''That's what I should have written on my cover letter : 'I want to be an agent and have no life at all, to risk my own everyday and get no sleep'...''

''Tony...''

''Oh, wait, this one is even better : 'I want to be part of NCIS to be understaffed against criminals and live 100% for my job'...''

Ziva quietly listened to his last complain and they then both remained silent for the rest of the trip. Mrs Solomon's place wasn't far and supposed to be safe, but now they had bad news to share and questions to ask.

* * *

...Gibbs left Bethesda's hospital with Tim, the young agent next to him definitely feeling the tension all around. He and Tony were always confronting each other, that was almost a natural thing between them... Men's egos ? Real opposite opinions ? He didn't know. And now Gibbs was extremely silent, and he knew what it meant. That meant he was really furious. Marine Jersey hadn't woken up, and maybe that was a good thing after all, but they needed answers... Tim could swear Gibbs might now be considering him as a suspect, too. In a coma or not, that case was way too twisted to even exonerate a sleeping man.

''McGee'' Jethro's voice interrupted his thoughts.

''Yes, boss ?''

''Was the list from the FBI mentioning cases in a chronological order ?''

''You think we could prevent the next one by following that same order ?''

Gibbs nodded while Tim took a look at something on his phone.

''Yes'' he finally confirmed.

''Tell me the SUV was part of Case number one, Tim.''

The young agent checked again while Jethro's hands moved around the steering-wheel, his face showing a sadder expression, this time.

''Actually this is number six, boss.''

Tim could swear he had heard a small '_damn it_' but he didn't mention it. He then just waited for Gibbs to lead them both to the park Marine Jersey had been shot months ago and let him talk again first once he got ready for it.

''What are missing, Tim ?'' Jethro asked rhetorically. ''If he doesn't specifically have to be the one involved in all this, he_ is_ the one the laptop has been stolen from, so we have to start with him.''

''I'm afraid we won't find anything new in here. It's just grass...and trees.''

''Marine Jersey was found around 4:30 a.m. The night watchman of this hotel in front heard the gunshot and called 911'' Gibbs continued speaking, staring at the landscape.

''They have already interrogated everyone, boss. No one saw nothing. I guess that's a pretty normal reaction if you hear a gunshot in the middle of the night. Hopefully 911 still got that call. Shall we interrogate them all again ?'' he asked a minute later, secretly hoping the answer'd be 'no'.

He knew that wasn't professional, nor empathic at all, but they had already too many things to deal with, and he wasn't sure they would survive to any extra task, especially Tony.

''We must be missing something...'' Gibbs repeated, his eyes observing the few people walking around, then the buildings...

''Boss, maybe...''

A hand on Tim's arm suddenly forced him to be silent, the young agent noticing Jethro's calmer behavior.

_''Tim''_ Gibbs almost whispered.

_''Am I missing something, boss...?''_ he whispered back. Jethro's eyes seemed to stare at something very small out there, down the hotel in front, if not...someone. He finally spotted, himself, a middle-age woman carrying bins. He squinted his eyes a bit, now understanding Gibbs' thoughts. ''Do you think she might have seen what happened ?'' he said in the end.

''If we are lucky enough...'' Gibbs kept speaking lowly, watching the woman go back and forth.

''Do you know if she was part of the team ? A new staff member, maybe ?''

''I don't think so...but I know one thing, McGee. Illegal residents don't take the risk talking to the police.''

Tim's eyes brusquely opened wide, the young agent feeling more confident.

''They make everything to be discreet'' he confirmed in turn, nodding.


	7. ¿Qué vio, Jorgelina?

''She won't let two federal agents approach her, boss.''

''Then let's not waste more time, McGee, and let's try something. If she enters that hotel again, who knows for how long we'll have to wait before she comes back.''

Gibbs and Tim then walked from the park to the building, their dark shoes crushing the grass under, killing flowers. Tim didn't say a word as he saw Gibbs' determined facial expression. He knew the man was lost in dark thoughts, imperturbable.  
A hand on his shoulder suddenly made him understand he should wait a few steps backward and then so did he, only watching now.

''Excuse-me, Ma'am, may I ask you something?'' Jethro started speaking casually once he had crossed the road, carefully hiding his gun and badge under his jacket. ''Looks like I've lost myself in the middle of this place.''

The woman nervously held the silver door she was about to close behind her and slowly raised her head in his direction, finally relaxing a bit as she noticed Gibbs' smile.

''_Pue_...I mean, can I...help you?'' she asked hesitantly, obviously looking for the right words to use.

''Yes,'' Jethro slowly continued, still smiling, ''actually my friend and I are looking for a hotel, and we thought this one had a very nice view on the park...''

''Very nice. Yes.''

Tim hid his gun and badge under his jacket as well and discreetly crossed the road as he saw Gibbs look at him, ready to join the short conversation.

''That is all, Sir?'' the woman said, her eyes staring at the door. ''I...work to do'' she said and regretted instantly, knowing she had spoken too fast and forgotten a verb. ''Sorry'' she added straight away, lowering her head, fingers wrapped around the handle. ''Ask reception for questions.''

Tim's feet suddenly almost ran along the tar, his shoes approaching Gibbs' ones.

''Wait'' Jethro said, walking to the door, trying not to frighten her.

_"Qué..."_ the woman whispered.

''Ma'am, NCIS'' Tim said, revealing his badge in the end. ''We would like to speak to you about something.''

She noticed the same one between Jethro's fingers and her face instantly turned paler, her eyes ready to cry, both begging for a miracle.

''¡Por favor, no me mande de vuelta!'' she started speaking hysterically. ''Tengo un niño enfermo, y necesito...''

''Tranquilo'' Gibbs immediately interrupted her, raising two palms in the air. ''Necesita calmarse, solo queremos hablar con usted. ¿Señora, cómo se llama?''

''_Pero... _Me...me llamo Jorgelina...y mi hijo se llama Augusto'' she admitted in the end, her arms shaking. ''¿Qué quieren? No tengo dinero, señores...no puedo perder este trabajo, y si la gente del hotel descubre que...''

''¿Jorgelina?'' the young agent unexpectedly asked in turn, softly. She nodded. ''Necesitamos información sobre un hombre llamado Guillermo Jersey. Alguien le disparó hace meses y tenemos que saber quien le hizo esto, es todo. ¿Entiende?'' he added, lowly.

The woman gazed into Tim's eyes, pitifully.

''Mi hijo,'' she said, desperate, ''ustedes tienen que comprender, no puedo abandonarlo...''

Tim slightly smiled and delicately put a hand on her arm, staring at her.

''Señora, yo promiso que su hijo estará seguro. Solo necesitamos repuestas. Seremos sólo nosotros dos,'' he kept trying comforting her, pointing a finger at Gibbs and himself, ¿vale?"

The woman seemed to analyze him for a handful of seconds, wondering...Tim noticed the maternal look in her eyes. She knew he could be her son.

_''Vale...''_ she answered, albeit reluctantly, exhaling deeply.

The young agent took a new discreet look at their female interlocutor, knowing these last four letters were confirming the fact that she had witnessed something. She told them the meeting place of her choice and definitely left the smelly spot they were all in, opening and closing, relieved, that silver door next to the bins... Tim couldn't help but reflexively touch his nose as he walked away, reaching the pavement. He didn't notice Gibbs' eyes on him, his own mind and tongue busy getting back to English.

''You think she's gonna come, boss?''

''I don't know, McGee. But we're gonna do everything we can to make that happen."

"You mean by staying here?''

''I mean by staying here, but discreetly. If she keeps seeing us in front of that hotel, she might get scared and leave. She might be our only chance.''

''Alright.''

Tim nodded and made a few steps forward, looking for the grass of the park again. He always loved nature, and this, whatever the circumstances. Attempt of murder's investigations probably weren't the best opportunities to get a breath of fresh air, but he guessed he couldn't complain about that.

''Hey, McGee'' the male voice restarted speaking all of a sudden.

''Yes, boss?''

''Didn't know you were speaking Spanish.''

''Oh,'' the young agent reacted, his cheeks briefly flushing, ''I just tried to learn a bit recently, you know, just in case. Thought it might be helpful, sometimes.''

Gibbs reflexively smiled, although a bit sadly, too. His agent had clearly worked more than just a little, and it was desperate to see he had such low self-esteem for his own efforts. Tim had a very smart brain but he was definitely not the type of guy trying to learn and speak other languages, so that did mean quite a lot.

''I'm gonna call Tony and Ziva and see if I can know anything new about the Solomon's family. Maybe someone tried to contact them'' Tim said as he moved away from Gibbs, grabbing his other phone.

Their new ones definitely were definitely older than their official's, but at least there was no risk for them to be tapped.  
Jethro nodded and took his own between fingers, dialing Tobbias' number. Finally they had a lead on something. Now the only thing to take care of was to know if Jorgelina would finally show up...

* * *

"Second call in less than thirty minutes, McGee, and nothing new to tell you...looks like someone is missing me a lot.''

''I call you back because Gibbs told me he had spoken to Fornell, and I wanted to keep you in touch before we meet Jorgelina again, but if you're too busy mocking me why don't you just put Ziva on the phone to me instead?''

''And if you're that sensitive, McGee, why don't you stay in our cute little orange office, playing on that computer of yours, rather than annoying people really fighting the crime? Too much pressure won't do you good, King of the Elves.''

''Ziva, or I hang up, Tony.''

''No,_ you_ first...'' he answered back instantly, faking a flirtatious voice.

He heard the groan on the other side of the line and held the item to the female agent next to him, the woman apologizing to the wife and kids, leaving her seat.

''Tim?'' she answered, Tony activating the speaker against her will. ''Tim? _Damn it_,'' she complained, ''what did you tell him _again_?''

''Nothing, David, I was only joking!''

''Well, I'm calling him back now. If he doesn't take that call, then _you_'ll have to ask Gibbs yourself about the update.''

* * *

_The man walked accross the park, followed by a shadow. Both men seemed to be the same height, their silhouettes half darkened by the early morning. _

_''Come on, what about the plan that we had? Hey, Jersey, I'm talking to...'' _

Jorgelina pressed her fingers on her temples, trying to focus, her eyes still looking for any extra hidden agent that might potentially be ready to imprison Augusto and herself.

''Es muy difícil recordarse de cada palabra americana...y hace mucho tiempo...'' the woman apologized and interrupted her own memory, extremely nervous.

''Sabemos eso, Jorgelina. Por favor, cierre sus ojos,'' Tim advised her, ''esto le ayudará.''

The woman nodded and reluctantly did so, still fearing any coming irrevocable sentence. It was like a word and another one. Impossible to remember perfectly, nor to understand any sentence in its entirety...however, you could never forget the sound of a bullet.

_''Three men were the perfect match for this, are you saying I'm gonna have to deal with someone else and replace you?''_

''Three men'' the woman said, eyes closed. ''Match.'' She took a deep breath. ''Like a team...'Team', yes.''

_''What about the Smith and Jersey team? Secretive and inseparable? You told me you'd get infos from the Navy and that we'd keep working on that...''_

_''Well, then maybe I lied a bit!'' the man finally spit out the words._

_The other man stopped in the middle of the park, his body still half lightened by the sky and the hotel's outside lights. He came closer, almost touching the other man's forehead._

_''Maybe you 'lied a bit'? What is that, Jersey? Such thing doesn't exist, you lie or you don't, there is no...''_

_Guillermo sighed and moved away from him, worried._

_''Listen, I'm sorry they didn't accept you. I know you've been trying. But now that I've been accepted in the Navy...''_

_''What?'' the man asked, grinning. ''You realized you had a family, people you cared about, or any other stupid shit like this?''_

_Guillermo sighed again, truly sorry._

_''Things change, sometimes, Smith. Frankly,'' he insisted, ''I thought things would be different. But I...''_

_''...don't say 'grew up', or I swear...''_

_Guillermo noticed the gun under the opposite jumper and felt his heart stop for a second._

_''Hey, man, are you crazy? Why did you bring this!''_

_''I get paranoid, sometimes.''_

_''Well, then why don't you go back home and put that thing in some safe place, uh? And get some sleep, too. You look exhausted.''_

_The other man didn't grin this time, visibly upset._

_''Wow, I didn't know they had made you turn into some obedient little puppy, Jersey...any new advice to share before I let you and go back to my miserable life? What a mess...you finally have a chance to legally have a gun, and you don't even bring it when you meet with an old friend, talking about serious matters.''_

_''Corruption is everywhere, Smith, in any job. You don't need to be an agent to fight against the crime, but not being picked as an agent doesn't mean there is a vendetta against you, either.''_

_''Yeah, thank you, teacher.''_

_''Maybe you should talk to someone...''_

_''Because you're a doctor, too?''_

_''Listen, I'm sorry about us, sincerely. But I won't say I regret my new life. Now we'd better go,'' he added, ''come on.''_

Luckily, Jorgelina was understanding better than she was actually speaking, but Tim knew deep down that it was making her feel safer to speak her maternal language with them. It made them look more concerned. Gibbs didn't say anything for quite a long time, only observing the one who had observed the scene months ago, his eyes on Tim, too. It was definitely one of these moments when he was feeling proud about an agent, but whether or not he should say it aloud was a complete different matter.  
Eventually, Jorgelina managed translating them one third of the conversation she'd heard and went back to work, both knowing they certainly wouldn't see her again now, even if she needed the job... Gibbs and Tim then went back to their vehicle and sent the infos to Abby, heading to NCIS, and the young woman started looking for some Smith in the system.

* * *

_''Okay guys, you know I really, really, really, really love you, but looking for a Smith in the US is just a nightmare!''_ Abby almost yelled on the phone, her mouth regularly sucking the straw of her favorite drink. _''It's like looking for a Mr. Durand in France, a Mr. Fischer in Germany, or...'' _

''Abby, were their friendship _that_ secretive?'' Gibbs interrupted her sharply. ''That's one of the key-words that woman gave us. Maybe they didn't share pictures on social medias, but someone might have seen them somewhere. Party? Event?''

_''Or school?''_ Ducky added, next to Abby. _''What about high school, more precisely? Maybe even middle-school, if we suppose they were talking about both agencies since...''_

''...can you find any Smith in his school, Abby?'' Gibbs asked straight away, his hands moving around the steering-wheel.

_''Well...''_ she spoke again, _''our man was in the same educational establishment since primary school, so let me clear any Smith who might have left in the meantime, boys, obviously. Wow, though school programmes... These little guys must have spent a lot of time in there...''_ she commented. _''Let me double-check first if there was any Smith he might have met during his activities...nope. Gibbs, it must have been at school, or it's a ghost ! I'm not saying it wouldn't be interesting if it was actually a ghost, but...''_

''Find him!'' Gibbs almost shouted, turning left.

_''Don't be so impatient and give me just a minute, Master of the Universe, King of the Dead, if there is any Smith from school I will find him...NOW! That was quick. Ouch...'' s_he reflexively whispered, staring at the rectangle on her screen.

''What is it, Abby?'' Tim asked, next to Jethro.

_''Oh, hi, Timmy, didn't know you were here! Well, open your ears, guys, 'cause I have no less than twenty-seven identical names in the entire school. Poor teachers... Gibbs,'' _she added in the end,_ ''you know I love you dearly, but I'm gonna need something more to shorten the list, otherwise we'll have about thirty men to track down and less than three days to find our security man!''_

Gibbs hung up the call and accelerated even more, his face serious and determined.

''We are definitely _not_ gonna go home'' Gibbs neutrally commented, eyes focused on the road.

Tim's back got pushed against the passenger seat as Jethro sped up, briefly chuckling.

''Tony is gonna love that.''


	8. Mr Smith

_Anecdote of the week: I just finished a three-day acting workshop in Paris, why I am late posting that chapter (and really sorry about that, by the way). But the greatest part of this anecdote is that this workshop has been directed by the wonderful...NCIS actress Jennifer Esposito, aka Alex Quinn! Even if she isn't part of these fanfictions yet, I'm still excited like a child since this amazing experience took place and, unfortunately, ended. Now Mark, Sean...please, would you guys fancy visiting me in France? I can go to LA, too. I'd love to see you all on set. _

Now, back to the story.

* * *

_''Listen, I sorry they did not...arrest you. I know you been trying. But not that I...been accepted in Navy...''_

_''What? You realize you had, uh...family? People you care, or...any...stupid shit?''_

_''Things change...Smith. Frankly, I...taught thing would be different. But...''_

_''...no say 'grew up', or I swear...''_

''So what do we got?''

Tim jumped as he heard Gibbs' voice, his mind already dealing with the awkward retranscription they just had from Jorgelina. It had been strange hearing her voice again.

''We're still working on it, boss'' he answered instantly. ''We're trying to correct the few lines she already told us when we recorded her. I mean, 'I' am...working on it'' he discreetly corrected, an eye on Tony's spot.

_''And?''_

''Uh...nothing that bad. Most of the time it's only about grammar, and she usually forgets to say 'a', or 'the' before nouns. Oh, and she said Jersey was sorry they didn't 'arrest' him?'' he added, rubbing his forehead.

Gibbs' coffee cup suddenly slid along Tim's desk, sharing its heavy smell with the rest of the space. The young agent reflexively shook his head, as if to give himself some strength back, and really focused on the conversation. No way he'd drink that.

''That's probably what she understood,'' Jethro continued, finally taking a sip, ''but it must have been 'accept'. Look,'' he said, now staring at the words which had been put on paper, ''straight after that, Jersey speaks about being accepted in the Navy.''

''Yeah, wake up McGeek,'' the second male voice added, softly hitting his shoulder, ''why would he be sorry they didn't 'arrest' him? Which kind of friend would it be, then?''

Tim discreetly groaned and faced Tony again, already bored.

''I don't think they were really good friends anymore, anyway,'' he retorted, ''why we should think about _all_ the possibilities. He shot him after that conversation, remember? What do you have to say about that?''

''Well, I think...''

''Then think faster!'' Jethro ordered instantly. ''In case you all wouldn't remember, we still have M. Solomon to find.''

''Yes, boss! _You heard the man, Timmy?_'' Tony lowly asked as Gibbs walked to his desk, nervous. _''Find him.''_

_''I think he meant the two of...''_ Tim started retorting.

''I mean let's get back to work, if you don't want anyone to find a second body by the end of the day!''

''Yes, boss.''

* * *

Tim was reading back everything that had been written down, his mind still busy switching from Spanish to American language. He listened again to the recording, his eyes looking at the words on paper, too. He took out one earphone and focused on a few sentences. It reminded him of school. Boring.

_''Corruption everywhere...Smith, any job. You not need to be agent to fight crime, but...not being picked as...uh, agent, doesn't mean there is vendetta.''_

_''Thank you...teacher.''_

_''Should talk to someone...''_

_''Because you're doctor ?''_

_''Listen...sorry about us, sincerely...not regret my new life. Now...we go.''_

He could hear her umpteenth apology and the fear in her voice at the really end, including the despair of being taken away with her child...again, the dialogue's memory was fine for most of the sentences, but something was disturbing him, even though he couldn't really say what. So he played it again, then stopped it and sighed.  
Maybe they'd say he was going through a phase of OCD or something, after all, or maybe he was just too tired of everything and his brain was having fun with his thoughts, but still, that...'something' bothered him too much. It was...no, it _sounded_...imperfect, somehow. He finally took out the last earphone, feeling confused for no explainable reason, and played the sound in the bullpen.

''..._you're doctor ?''_

_''Listen...sorry about us, sincerely...not regret my new life. Now...we go.''_

He stopped the recording and played it again.

_''...to someone...''_

_''Because you're doctor ?''_

_''Listen...sorry about us, sincerely...not regret my new life. Now...we go.''_

Once more he stopped it and played it another time, Gibbs now raising his head in his direction, curious. But Tim didn't say anything. That probably _was_ nothing, right ? But what if... Tony re-heard these very same words and started rubbing his forehead, his tongue pushing his teeth and palate, as for a sign of his discontentment. Tim didn't bother staring at any of the men and simply rewound the recording, visibly dubious.

_''What? You realize you had, uh...family? People you care, or...any...stupid shit?''_

_''Things change...Smith. Frankly, I...taught thing would be different. But...''_

A hand slightly hit Tony's desk, its owner raising his head in the young agent's direction.

''Come on, McGee, stop that thing. Or at least put these damn earphones back on your ears, I can't focus.''

''Why don't you go somewhere else...'' Tim lowly pronounced without any anger, his deep thoughts still heaving on his brain, controlling it.

Gibbs immediately noticed that 'je ne sais quoi' along the man's face and immediately stood up, walking to his desk.

''Anything new, McGee?''

''Did Abby find our Smith?'' Tim asked, playing again that same extract. ''Did she manage to shorten the list?''

''No'' Jethro said, neutral. ''Why?''

Tim finally slightly raised his eyes, Gibbs staring back at him, Tony and Ziva approaching altogether.

"I don't know...it's just...'' Tim continued, although hesitantly. ''I'm a bit confused with, uh...synonyms.''

''She replaced a few words with some others, McGee'' Ziva said, ''I don't think it really matters, this is no big deal.''

''Yeah, like you can talk about it, Agent David...'' Tony quickly commented, grinning.

''No, it's not really about her, boss, but more about the words Marine Jersey might have used. I told you, it might just a detail, but it sounds...weird.''

''Maybe you're just too perfectionist, McSyntax.''

Tony felt like he was ready to laugh, this time, but Gibbs' hand in the air made him stop immediately. So he only crossed his arms and sat on a corner of Tim's desk, desperately waiting for some interesting news.

''Which words, McGee?'' Jethro asked.

There was a handful of seconds spent in silence before Tim decided to spit it out, still not knowing if he was going through a gut reaction or simply being too perfectionist, like Tony said..._and_ exhausted.

''Okay, so I'm a bit confused with something that he's explained. See, Marine Jersey is saying how much he is sorry and tells Smith about his new life and decisions, but he uses two different words to express the same feeling and so it sounds, like I told you, a bit weird...at least in my mind. Boss, according to Jorgelina's testimony he used two synonyms : 'frankly', then 'sincerely'.'' Gibbs suddenly raised an eyebrow, looking a bit puzzled. He might truly try to be very attentive to what his agent seemed to be ready to find out, he had to admit he didn't really know where this whole language thing could lead them to. He hated to think that, but Tony probably wasn't wrong about..._ ''Boss,''_ the young agent continued straight away, feeling his interlocutor's doubts, ''listen to this again, and just tell me if I'm the only one to notice...''

_''Things change...Smith. Frankly, I...taught thing would be different. But...''_

''She said 'taught' instead of 'thought', and Jersey seemed to have wanted to insist on his explanation, that's what I hear. Now what else is it all about, McGee ?''

_''Yeah, enlighten us, McGee...''_ Tony whispered in the end, almost groaning.

''What if she just pronounced it bad, boss? Jorgelina. It comes straight after 'Smith', see? Boss, maybe Marine Jersey didn't use a synonym to express his sincerity but only called his friend by his name: 'Franky'.''

All the eyes around opened wide and Jethro reflexively grabbed his phone, dialing a number.

_''I'm not finished, Gibbs!'' _the female voice brusquely shouted. _''I'm horrified saying that, but I think that's the first time you're calling me and I have nothing new to tell you! Are you mad? You're mad. I can feel it. I promise I'll...''_

''Abby,'' Gibbs interrupted her, wishing she'd calm down for a minute, ''any Franky Smith in the school list?''

_''Oh, so now you've got something for me? That is so unfair... Okay, just give me a sec... Positive, Gibbs! I have a Franklin Smith...two years older than Jersey...repeated his third year in high school. Dead father. Six months spent in a mental hospital.''_

''Seems like our man had a hard time grieving...'' Ziva commented.

''And now his best friend let him down and stopped sharing his interests.''

''That sounds bad, boss,'' Tim added, ''when I...''

He reflexively stopped in the middle of his sentence and immediately focused on the picture Abby had just sent him. _Saved by the gong._  
Gibbs took a discreet look at his agent before observing the male face which had just appeared on the screen.

''I want a BOLO on this man. Now!''

''On it, boss!'' Tim robotically reacted, his fingers almost crazily flying over his keypad.

''And who is the third man?'' Gibbs continued, starting walking nervously back and forth, mostly talking to himself.

''We're gonna go through any link we can find between Jersey and Smith from school'' Ziva said, hurrying to her desk.

Gibbs reflexively nodded and put a hand in his pocket, looking for his phone again. They were running out of time... Well, they had something now, something quite big, actually. But that still wasn't enough. He dialed a number he knew by heart and waited to hear the familiar voice on the other side.

_''If it isn't my best friend calling...''_

''Tobias,'' Jethro continued instantly, ''any update about M. Solomon? Did you check the cars?''

_''Each of them since your man is gone, Jethro, and regularly. No sign of anyone for now. Don't know if it's a good thing, though.''_

Gibbs deeply exhaled and rubbed his chin, taking a look at the orange bullpen. Something was missing. Indeed, if their man was executing his plan meticulously, then he'd need at some point to respect the rules, and look for a car...but how would he do if everything was constantly under control?

''Did you check the missing agents' ones? The ones on vacation, medical leave...''

_''All of them, Jethro. If that son of a bitch dare approaching one of our vehicles, I'll know it.''_

''What about yours, Tobias?'' Gibbs suddenly proposed after some time.

_''Mine? Are you kidding, Jethro, I've almost been sitting on top of my roof, guarding my baby like a dog for the last two days. I checked it, too.''_

''Any sleep?''

_''A nap, at most. And believe it or not, but sometimes I pee as well, like some humans do, you know? Come on, I'm in charge of the case, you old man,''_ Fornell finally continued, seriouser, _''I definitely won't be the good guy to target.''_

Gibbs sighed for the umpteenth time of the hour, definitely feeling something wrong. The rest of team felt it too, seeing his face, and they all basically held their breath, waiting to listen to the end of the conversation.

''Tobias, check your car'' Gibbs suddenly ordered and almost warned.

_''Come on, Jethro, you don't think...''_

''Check your car, Tobias!'' Gibbs insisted, nervous.

''Boss,'' Tim tried to intervene and calm things down for a short moment, ''I thought it was a matter of three days, what about the deadline we've...''

''Nothing mentioned our man couldn't be 'kept' for three days before we find him, McGee.''

''What...''

''He's trying to make us _think_, DiNozzo! That's what he's doing now.''

Jethro's face switched from really upset to clearly tired, if not confused, too...they all were obviously waiting for some kind of news, good or bad, even though they couldn't hear Fornell properly on the other side of the line. All they had was nothing but a slight echo of the FBI agent's voice, but it was still better than nothing.

_''Hey, Gibbs...''_ someone finally lowly spoke, hesitantly.

''What is it, Tobias ?'' Jethro asked straight away, now worried.

_''Call the Solomon's family immediately. God, I can't believe I'm saying it, but...you were right.''_

Gibbs ended up putting the speakers on, so that everyone could hear the very last words concerning the mysterious discovery.

_''I think I've found your guy's body...'' _the old agent announced, _''and it smells.''_


	9. The third agency

Gibbs' fingers quietly tapped the desk under them, the man thinking. It'd been two weeks since the beginning of the case, and everyday was the same, besides some new elements: one step forward, two steps back. His eyes read again that same list Jethro had gone through so many times, wondering if that Smith would emerge after days of silence and pick an old case, and teach them something. Something...yeah, if it was clear now that the troubled Mr Smith intended to reveal corruption or even only express his constant frustration for not being part of any federal agency, what had he tried so far to teach them? The _ding_ of the elevator forced him to face the real world again and Tony instantly met his angry eyes.

''Hey, boss.''

''How was the meeting with Fornell?'' Gibbs asked straight away, not minding any longer greetings.

Tony sighed and approached him closer, reaching his spot.

''Everyone is clean. At least, for now. It's a big mess out there,'' he admitted, ''you can definitely feel the pressure. Now the question is why is everybody so clean if our man was so angry against the FBI? I mean, he tried to be accepted, right? So he should have suspected something bad about _them_.''

The agent suddenly heard the steps behind him.

''Our man's mind is not thinking clear, Anthony. The main problem might not be exactly the FBI, but the fact that corruption exists between agencies he wished he could have worked for. Smith certainly considers himself like a very good person with a mission, not something really hard to understand, why he might even be ready to kill if this is to prove it will serve the country's interests.''

''He has already killed, Ducky'' Gibbs commented, standing up.

''Well, he has certainly shot Marine Jersey, but our victim is not dead yet. And we still cannot know for sure if he is responsible for Mr Solomon's murder.''

''Oh come on, Duck, he must have done it. He hacked and reopened old cases and now we have one new similar death" Tony retorted.

''Yes, Anthony, but I am afraid our suspect was not able to kill the first security man years ago. If yes, then it would mean that we were allowing teenagers to cross the Navy Yard without being able to control them, and this would be then extremely dangerous for NCIS, if not impossible.''

''Because he was too young years ago doesn't mean he didn't kill, this time.''

''Like you said. 'Time'. Only time will tell. Did Timothy manage to get anything from the security cameras?''

''No, it had been hacked as well before Mr Solomon was kidnapped'' the agent said, noticing his teammate coming with Ziva.

Tim sighed and walked down the silver stairs, just leaving MTAC, and completed Tony's explanation.

''They, or he used something very basic, but very smart, too. The videos kept showing extracts from older tapes around where Mr Solomon was standing on that day, so everybody could think he hadn't meet anyone in particular, but then we don't have any idea...''

''You have to find him, McGee'' Tony begged and ordered all at once, tired.

''Again, that isn't because Smith and I seem to have the same skills that it makes it easier for me to understand him, Tony. We have to keep working together...'' Tim commented, rolling his eyes.

The young agent faced his preoccupied teammates and finally exhaled heavily, suddenly making a few steps forward in the bullpen. He walked to his desk in the end and made the whole group of papers slide along the large furniture, flying white rectangles and files brusquely reaching the floor.

''Turning crazy, McSicko?'' Tony wondered, the man waiting no more than a second before feeling the slap behind his head.

''Alright. Time out. Let's forget everything we know and focus on everything that happened on that day when the SUV exploded and Mr Solomon disappeared.''

''Good idea'' Gibbs immediately reacted, Ziva nodding, too.

''Oh, so when I say 'Campfire' nobody listens, but if McGee says...''

''Could you please shut up for a second, Tony!'' Tim brusquely ordered, visibly upset.

The older agent immediately furrowed his eyebrows, bewildered.

''What did you just say, McClown?''

''My name is _McGee_, Tony, or you can call me Tim, if you feel like it, but now we have a case to solve, and that would be really appreciated if you could just listen for once to something I say without interrupting me with your stupid comments!''

The whole team took a strange look at Tim. It wasn't anything mean, nor resentful, but more like a surprising one. Tim obviously seemed to have had enough of Tony's interventions, and that new huge silence all around the bullpen would at least help them focus on the coming conversation.

_''Facts''_ Gibbs pronounced out of nowhere after another handful of seconds.

''A man accessed NCIS on that day with an official badge and said he was working for the security service. They checked his ID and car. The man is still unknown in the system. Either Smith changed his name and hacked the system in order to make him disappear, either he chose someone in the crowd, a civilian, maybe, with no criminal record, why we can't find him'' Ziva started.

''The said William Thorn might have accepted the mission because he was forced doing so, or maybe willingly. Two possibilities: money, same interests for Smith's ideology'' Tim proposed.

''Or because he owed him a favor'' Gibbs added.

''BOLO didn't give us any results. Either for Smith, or William Thorn. William can be dead at that time, or maybe hiding with him. But with Smith's skills, they can hide anywhere and hack security cameras, making themselves harder to find.''

''We cannot check all the cameras in DC'' Ducky commented. ''And even if we could, he would certainly be far away, already.''

''We had the one in charge of the security minutes ago in MTAC,'' the young agent explained, ''he was unreachable because of a trip he was doing with his wife. But he confirmed us officially that there wasn't any William Thorn working with him. His right-hand man is double-checking everyone who is currently working and has been working under that name but it seems to lead to the same result: nowhere.''

''Why did it take so long?'' Gibbs almost groaned. ''It's been days.''

''After our man reached the Navy Yard, his fake profile has been deleted, including the entrance's tapes. Smith certainly knew it would take time to get an authorization to contact people in higher places if our warrant was only based on nonexistent videos and only one man's testimony after checking his badge. Maybe the Director might have given us the right to start the investigation sooner, but like I said, he was unreachable till now, so...''

Gibbs reflexively nodded and approached the screen, his eyes on that same face again, Smith's one. It was like an old 'Wanted' poster. They had the headshot, now they were looking for the reward: the whole body.

''Bring him to NCIS.''

''He'll be here within 48 hours, boss.''

''Alright'' Jethro then continued. _''Questions.''_

''Who is the third man?'' Tony started, in turn. ''I mean, according to Jorgelina's testimony, that's what he had planed. A third man before Jersey said he'd quit.''

''You think William Thorn would have replaced Jersey?'' Ziva asked.

''I don't know...Jersey would have been like a double agent to him. It'd have been easier for him to access the Navy Yard, but then his cover would have been completely compromised.''

''I think William was some kind of John Doe, an extra man included in the trio'' Tim proposed. ''We didn't find any link between William and Franky, so that was the perfect plan.''

_''Headache, here it comes...''_ Tony complained, although lowly, too scared of getting any new head slap from Master Gibbs.

''But if our man was someone very organized and willing to take risks, like I think he is, then I seriously doubt he would have taken the time to find another partner in crime within such a short period. He probably preferred adapting himself to the new situation'' Ducky shared his opinion on the subject.

Gibbs walked back and forth between the orange walls, his eyes moving away from the screen and Smith's face. He could feel his heavy thoughts eat away his energy, but still, he needed more.

''Keep going!'' he said. _''New question.''_

''Alright, uh...why that case?'' Tony wondered. ''He hacked a list of several cases mentioning both agencies, but he's copied only one so far? When is the next one coming?''

''Maybe he needs preparation, boss'' Tim said after some time, his mind flying away from the place they were in.

''What do you mean, McGee?''

''Maybe we're just loosing time thinking about what's next. Maybe this is why he didn't follow any list's order, at least for now, only because he already has something to work out first.''

''What?'' Tony asked, dubious. ''He thinks we have a problem with our security so he wants to kill people working for us?''

''I think Timothy has got something interesting.''

They all heard Tony laugh with irony.

''So what's the deal? We need security guys to protect our security guys...?''

* * *

The old fist knocked at the door, a tired man opening.

''Hey, grandpa, missing me, already?''

Gibbs furrowed both eyebrows and took a quick look at the place he wanted to enter, finally facing Fornell.

''I asked DiNozzo to check your security agents' list with you. Seems like a few of them came from the same agency. Maybe it'd give us a lead on something.''

Tobias nodded and invited him to come, quickly holding a beer in his direction, not facing him.

''Oh, yes. I had a meeting earlier, but they told me we'd have to do so. I'm working on the list right now, actually...I just thought I'd be better at home.''

''Tobias.''

''What, grandpa?'' Fornell questioned him with a lower voice, uselessly looking for some papers on the coffee table.

''The agents in questions are already being interrogated.''

''Of course they are. I mean...wait.'' Fornell turned back and finally stood in front of Gibbs, his mind lost, looking for excuses. ''What did you just say?''

''You couldn't have any idea that I'd asked Tony to check the list with you, and you know it.''

''What...?'' Fornell sighed and started speaking more energetically this time, sounding upset. ''Damn it, I had told him to not say a word yet, this kiddo is definitely...''

''He covered your tracks that other day, like you told him to do, when you were supposed to end checking every FBI agents' profiles. But I got a call from one of your men, who told me he had forgotten sending details after his work with DiNozzo. He didn't mention you at all. That's how I knew you were out. Why lying, Tobias? What's happening with you?''

Fornell exhaled deeply and took another sip of his beer, not joking anymore.

''They found the body in _my_ car, Jethro. And I wasn't enjoying a vacation like our other guy, years ago. I was _on_ the case. There is an investigation to make. That thing is bigger than us. Bigger than we can admit. What did you think, uh?'' he continued. ''That they wouldn't take a chance to take me down? You thought they'd say 'no problem, boss, we know you're innocent, you're free to keep going'? _Tell me_, Gibbs.''

''It doesn't matter what I think, Tobias.''

''Well, good for you, Jethro.''

He tried to turn back but immediately felt the hand on his shoulder, meeting the NCIS agent's blue eyes.

''What about you? What do you think?''

Fornell ended his bottle and wiped off the drops along his mouth, tired.

''I think that if you don't find that son of a bitch who put that body in my car, I'll never get the right to leave that damn place again.''

''At least you've got beer'' Jethro lowly pronounced in the end, trying to say something.

Fornell briefly chuckled and cheered from distance, opening a second drink, taking a sip from the new bottle.

''Yeah. At least I've got beer.''


	10. Time to say goodbye

Tim accessed NCIS, his mind full of thoughts. Besides the obvious tiredness along everyone's faces, including his own, today was a beautiful day. What a shame it was to be someone so in love with nature and forced to head to work anyway... He walked past the new security man and noticed the hand stopping him.

''Badge, please.''

''Sorry?'' he said, still waking up.

''Badge, please'' the man repeated.

Tim raised his eyes and reflexively sighed as he faced him, his brain remembering.

''Oh yeah, true. Sorry about that. Here it is.'' Working at NCIS had been such a huge part of his routine for years, Tim always forgot that someone could check his ID, or even ask him his name. But it was probably better for everyone. Especially these days. Again, he realized they had a new man, and it sadly made him think back of Mr Solomon's death. Poor man. ''Agent Tim McGee'' he then uselessly pronounced, as if to present a solid alibi. ''So? How is it going?'' he added, trying to carry on a conversation.

''Very good, thank you, sir. People seem nice in here.''

''You've never met Tony.''

''Agent Anthony DiNozzo? Oh, yes, I've met him. He made me sure I'd remember his name. Quite an...''

''...interesting person?'' Tim questioned him, smiling.

His interlocutor smiled back instantly. Sunny morning and jokes. Wasn't that bad to start the day.

''Yes. 'Interesting', like you say. He likes movies, your friend.''

''He certainly does...'' Tim noticed a few people coming in his direction and then politely raised a palm next to the new security agent, starting to leave. Chats were nice, but they still both had work to do. He briefly grinned but couldn't help thinking that this man could be in danger anytime now that he had been hired. He finally entered the elevator and was about to access the bullpen when he caught the rest of the team in the middle of a conversation. _''Oh, boy...''_ he thought, already exhausted by the day.

''Maybe he's just crazy. We know his past. What is this man trying to prove?'' Ziva wondered, insistent.

''Yeah, are we still supposed to wait for him to go crazy again and pick a new case? We've talked to the Director of the agency on Tuesday, his alibi has been checked and re-checked, not that he even needed one, with his destination... And Ducky said a new body had been found, maybe we could put that case away for a little while and focus on...''

''We need to be all on this one, DiNozzo!''

''But sky is so dam clear today, like the last past few days, by the way...''

''Day is particularly clear, today, indeed'' Tim joined the trio, smiling. ''Not a single cloud.''

Tony stopped and faced him from his spot, half sitting on his desk.

''I wasn't really talking about the sky, you know, McWeather.''

''That was a joke, Tony...'' Tim said and instantly regretted to have even tried puns, walking to his own furniture.

''Oh, great, then just tell us when we are supposed to laugh.''

''I just spoke to the new security agent. Told me you two have met. He said you forgot your ego downstairs.''

Tony's face suddenly turned seriouser and frustrated, Ziva immediately chuckling.

''Okay, that was excellent, McGee'' she admitted.

''What would be excellent is you, shutting up that stupid mouth, McGee, some people in here are trying to have a real conversation, in case you hadn't noticed...''

''Oh, really, Tony? I thought there was nothing to discuss as the case was desperately radio silent, 'sky clear', like you said, does it ring a bell to you?''

Jethro rolled his eyes and finally pointed a finger at his younger agent, then at the older one, a phone ringing in the bullpen.

''Don't touch it!'' Jethro warned Tony, forcing his new duet to follow his steps to the interrogation room.

Ziva immediately walked to the phone and answered it, worriedly watching her men vanish from her sight. Some people were about to go through a very bad moment, she could feel it.

_''Agent Ziva David speaking...'' _she ended up saying, getting back to work.

* * *

Tony instinctively reached the first chair, the one always used on the interrogation side, leaving an even more upset Tim on the other one. They both felt like kids right now, punished children supposed to explain why something was wrong. The younger agent crossed his arms and tried to remain silent while Tony faked a fearless facial expression. He smiled and gazed into his interlocutor's eyes, hoping that Gibbs would leave them alone. But he knew he wouldn't. _Hell no._  
Old fingers finally wrapped themselves around the silver handle and the heavy door brusquely opened, Gibbs joining the soundless, although heavy atmosphere.

''Stand up.''

''What?'' Tony asked, half lying on his chair.

''I said 'stand up', DiNozzo! You too, McGee.''

Tim was already almost too obedient, as expected, but Tony still seemed to be waiting for some more explanations. And soon they were then both facing each other, arms crossed, challenging looks. Jethro pressed a palm on each shoulder, upset.

''What the hell is going on with you two! I thought the conflictual stupid male alpha period was over since your first year together at NCIS.

''Oh come on, we're not there anymore, there's...''

''There's no male alpha...thing, boss, it's just...'' Tim immediately added, hesitating.

''It's just what? I'm damn tired of the two of you!'' Gibbs interrupted them. ''Now, nobody leaves that place till I didn't hear what you have to say! McGee, you start.''

The young agent heavily sighed but then forced himself to face Tony, already wishing he could escape that place. That was the price to be free. And according to the situation, the sooner the better.

''Well, if you want to know, Tony, I'm fed up with you always speaking to me like I'm a damn worthless person!'' he suddenly spit the words. ''I'm not...''

''Wait, '_worthless'_? Come on, I never said you were worthless, McG...''

''I'm not finished, Tony! You see? Every time you won't let me speak, or call me with these stupid names...yeah, I know how it sounds, boss,'' he finally added as if to justify himself, briefly staring at Gibbs. ''You might think I express my anger like a five-year old kid, but that's how it is!'' His face immediately turned redder than usual, the number of his heartbeats obviously increasing. ''I'm just tired of that. It's too much!'' he admitted, raising his arms in the air. ''Admit it, Tony.''

''What?'' he asked, neutral, protecting himself from his feelings.

''If you feel like you can't respect me enough to stop joking about me all the time, 24/7, and more than anything, if you truly believe all these jokes you're making about me, if you think I'm nothing more than a geek, a bookworm, or whatever you want to call me, then maybe I'm working at the wrong service, and maybe I should be doing my job like Abby or Ducky and Palmer, alone in a basement or somewhere else I won't bother anyone. I'm different from you all, _I get it_, and I'm done'' he said in the end, his body slightly shaking and naturally starting moving away.

Gibbs' hand tried to block the way, Tony's brain still too busy processing the recent lot of informations.

''Wait, McGee. We're not done yet, now I want to know what DiNozzo has to say about th...''

''You'd better not'' Tim unexpectedly pronounced, eyes red. ''I don't have time for that. If Tony still wants to communicate with me, he can still write all his jokes in a book and send it to me. It'll be easier. I'll read it when I'll get time for this.''

If Jethro would have usually not listened to such a reaction and immediately done something, maybe even share head slaps, he knew this time he had to let him go. Words were sometimes hurting more than actions, and he knew it was certainly the last straw for Tim. But what surprised him the most, actually, was that his agent had spoken quite calmly, to be honest, however hurt he was. Tension had been obviously palpable, but Tim had, again, been able to stay as professional as possible, if not maybe been too polite, once more... Tim always was like that. He knew how to express himself, and how to be smart in any situation. That was definitely his strength, even if he should certainly try to let things go, sometimes. He sighed and took a new look at Tony, still bewildered.

''You heard the man?'' he finally said, bored, interrupting the awkward silence.

''I...what...you think I should go and apologize to him? I swear I didn't know he was feeling that w...''

''I think not approaching him for a while might be better, DiNozzo! That's what you get for speaking too much.''

''Listen, boss...''

''I don't have time for that, DiNozzo.''

Tony met Gibbs' terrible eyes and both men then suddenly got interrupted by a knock at the door. Jethro opened it and noticed Ziva's solemn, cold face.

''Hey, Gibbs. What...is McGee alright? He seemed particularly upright...''

''Upset.''

''_Upset_, yes.''

''What's up, Ziva?'' Tony discreetly asked and didn't even mention the recent correction, still a bit scared by Jethro's presence.

''It was Bethesda Hospital. Marine Jersey is dead.''

''Alright'' Gibbs said as he turned back, facing Tony. ''Let's go.''

The younger male agent rubbed his face as he followed Ziva and Gibbs to the bullpen. Sky had been 'too clear', uh. _Karma._

''Is that a good thing?'' Ziva wondered, now dubious, walking by Jethro's side.

''What do you mean?''

''That he's dead. I mean, obviously this isn't. But maybe then...it'll 'provoke' something in Smith, and he'll try to go to the next level. That could be dangerous, for sure, but at least we could get a lead on where he is. Or why he's done it.''

''I want a press conference'' Gibbs calmly ordered and nodded unexpectedly, briefly looking at Tim once they reached the bullpen.

''You want to contact the press...?'' Tim asked straight away, glad to have a new topic to focus on, standing up.

''We need to tell them that Jersey is dead. The more public it gets, the more chances we get to have Smith visiting him. If they were best friends for so long, he'll certainly want to find a way to say goodbye.''

''Uh...nobody remembers he shot him?'' Tony dared asking, still staying a bit behind.

Gibbs shook his head in the elevator's direction, inviting everyone to follow him.

''They have a past together. Unless he's turned into a real sociopath he'll still act like a normal person with feelings and have remorses.''

''Got it.''

Tony first briefly stared at Tim as they all entered the silver cage and then tried to avoid him, not knowing yet which behavior he should have with him. He'll think about it later. At least they were busy again for now...

* * *

It had been very strange to hear Gibbs mention a press conference. For someone who hated talking to them, he had been the first and only one thinking of asking for a meeting. It certainly hadn't given Marine Guillermo Jersey the respect and silence he deserved after his death but at least it was something that had worked, again, like almost everything Leroy Jethro Gibbs was planing.

''Franky Smith?'' he asked as he came alone, trying not to scare him, slowly and calmly approaching the grave. _No answer._ ''I just want to speak with you, Franky. That's all. You and me, no gun, no police.'' But again, he received no answer. Jethro discreetly exhaled, his feet crushing the beautiful grass, his eyes watching the numerous crosses all around. ''Smith?'' he dared repeating, now only a few steps away from the quiet, mourning man.

Gibbs finally decided himself to raise a comforting hand in his direction but the movement surprised him straight away, Franky Smith suddenly revealing his exhausting face, some dark object between his palms.

''Don't come closer, Special Agent Gibbs'' he immediately warned and ordered, his forehead sweating. ''Don't come closer or I'll kill you'' he added, Jethro instantly raising both arms in the air, extremely careful.


	11. Blind people

''Don't come closer or I'll kill you.''

Gibbs kept his eyes opened but left reality for a few seconds, his mind travelling throughout the past... He couldn't say he wasn't feeling anything. Indeed, even though he was rarely showing it, he knew he had a family he cared about, a team he wanted to see again. _Alive._ But the man had received so many death threats in his life that it seemed now like he didn't really know anymore how to be properly afraid.

''Turn around'' the voice suddenly continued, taking him away from his previous thoughts.

''Nope'' Gibbs calmly said. ''First I want to know what is going on, Franky.''

The bullet instantly dived a hole as Gibbs' eyes closed. He then reopened them, breathing differently.

''Next time you try to do the tough guy this is not the ground I am aiming at'' the male voice threatened.

Jethro kept his hands high and did as he was told, this time, slowly showing his back.

''So what, Franky, you're gonna kill me without telling me about your ideology?'' Gibbs carefully asked, falsely grinning.

''What ideology?'' Smith questioned him, impatient.

''You think everyone is corrupted in our services. FBI, NCIS...''

''_We_ thought!'' he immediately corrected, nervously taking a look at his friend's grave. ''We could have been great agents...'' he added, sweat now joining coming tears.

''You need help, Franky...'' Jethro calmly said, slightly trying to move.

''I said don't do anything stupid!'' his potential murderer warned him instantly, tightening his grip around the gun. ''You all are like insects. You proliferate all across the country, the world...you manipulate it and take opportunities to do things the way _you_ want. Jersey and I used to be friends, _smart_ friends, you know...'' He wiped off the humidity under his nose and kept talking, nervous and sad. ''Before Jersey decided...to play the good guy, to 'enjoy' his job and renounce to see injustices, we had made a lot of researches together. He was providing me the few informations he could...I was doing the geek part. I'm good at it, you know. But...'' Gibbs couldn't see his face at this point but he knew Smith's throat was currently tightening with the same strength his hand was holding the gun. Yes, besides the violent and dangerous meaning of the situation, he knew Franky's heart was human and therefore broken, that his mind was now realizing he would never see his best friend anymore. He was devastated. Loss...like death threats, it was something Gibbs had experienced too many times in his life, but hidden feelings or not, that was definitely something he still couldn't properly deal with. ''He let me down...'' Franky finally continued, pursing his lips to hold back the tears.

''You said you had a lead'' Jethro interrupted him.

''_We_ had'' Smith coldly confirmed all of a sudden, as if to sound brave again.

''Then tell me about it, son, so I can do something!''

''I don't believe you. All you want is to send me to jail. Or maybe worse. But let me tell you something. You all are blind. And one day I'm gonna prove it.''

''You don't have to play the hero, Franky, we can all work together and talk about it.''

''No we can't! I don't trust you'' he repeated. ''No one can be trusted. But I'll prove the system is wrong'' he promised. ''That I'm not crazy.'' Gibbs discreetly sighed, somehow scared about what would happen next and also preoccupied by the man's mental health. ''There is no safe place anymore between the FBI and the NCIS. And you might think I am using strong words, I am actually on the good side. I'm standing with the ones doing things _right_'' he kept speaking, confident. ''And if I can prove it then maybe things will go further and there'll be more people to denounce. I'm sure there is so much more to do.''

''Listen, I'm sorry you've tried so many times and were never hired, Smith, but if...''

''I have to go'' Franky immediately spoke before he finished his sentence, now pressing the barrel against Gibbs' skull. ''I'll do what it takes for people to know the truth. _Whatever it takes_.''

Jethro didn't feel scared this time. One movement, one moment of hesitation, or even one step heading to any exit would give him the time to grab the man and push him against the ground. He was used to it. But Gibbs didn't get the time to do anything. As he slightly started raising an arm, waiting for the right moment, the gun violently hit his skull and it was as if he'd just turned blind. A large black spot got instantly bigger and he didn't see anything, anymore. There was blood licking his temple, and his cheek was being stroked by the grass.

* * *

The spot had reappeared but there was room for some lights in its corners, silhouettes trying entering the frame...maybe they were too big for his vision.

''Oh my God. Tony, come here.''

''What's happening, Ziva?'' he asked, tense.

''Gibbs just woke up.''

Tony's arm immediately pushed Ziva away, his eyes looking for a personal confirmation.

''Boss?'' he called. ''Boss, you hear me? This is Tony.''

_''Stop playing the hero, Tony...''_ Ziva whispered.

Memories suddenly came up, quick and painful, although everything still seemed confused in his brain.

''Wh...Frank...you got Franky?'' he basically stuttered, his mind trying to deal with the situation.

_White gown. Hospital sheets. Man, he didn't like that._

''No, boss. He's gone. If only you would have let us stay closer...we could have caught him in time.''

''I had to talk to him. Alone.''

_''And now guess who is playing the hero...''_ Tony whispered back to Ziva. ''Okay. You have to rest, now, boss. You have an ugly bump on your forehead.''

''Do we still have the gala next month with the Director in charge of the Security Service? We have to talk to him again, and to every...''

''Yep. As you can imagine, they brought the date forward, this year. Especially with what happened these days, they want a serious meeting to talk about the situation, although they made the previous gala turn into something more intimate.''

''More intimate?''

''Vance will be here, of course. Secretary of Defense. A few representatives of the Director's team... You don't have to come. Tim and I can go, or Ziva..."

"No" Jethro brusquely rejected the offer. ''I want to go. Everyone has to go.''

''You...want to go? Wow, what happened to your brain, boss, it seems more damaged than I thought. First you want to contact the press, now you want to go the gala?''

''We...need to talk seriously with the Director. I'm afraid...Smith soon will do something very dangerous'' Gibbs managed speaking a bit louder, his head aching as he tried to sit up and leave. ''Is anyone, besides the new short-listed guests, aware of the new day?''

''Of course, not. Only people joining us. If we end up having a mole, then that's definitely someone we know.''

''That's good. Now let's go. We have work to do.''

''Hey, slow down, boss. We're gonna get you out of that bed, alright? I know you won't accept to stay here any longer whatever the doc says, so let me just go find a nurse...and more stylish clothes.''

Tony reflexively rolled his eyes and quickly left the room, Ziva now approaching her boss.

''You've talked to him, right? Before he hit you'' she asked and added bluntly, like she always did.

''Yes, Ziva. And I'm not sure he's right about what he said, but...''

''Then what's the problem, Gibbs?''

Jethro briefly stared at her, his blue eyes expressing true facts.

''You've worked for the Mossad, Ziva. You've seen things. I saw things. You know there's no country free of scheming.''

''I know, Gibbs, but it's not like in movies. You don't find the bad guys in a snap.''

''That's why Smith is intriguing me. He's good at his work, if not _excellent_. McGee and him would certainly be friends if they weren't fighting the crime on different sides of the light. But as much crazy as he sounds...''

''...you think he still could be right about the situation but might use a bad way to prove it.''

Gibbs didn't bother commenting loudly, this time. All he did was nodding, and that silent action meant everything.

* * *

''Badge and ID, please.'' Gibbs deeply exhaled as he received the order, although he tried to do it discreetly, knowing that was procedure. After all, people were not supposed to know you were the good guy just because you thought you were. ''Arms up, please. Turn around.'' The man finally nodded to another one, ending his checking. He put his eyes on Jethro's ID again before giving him back, taking a suspicious look at his face. ''That's a bad bruise you have on your face, Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS. Who did you fight with?''

''He fought the crime, goddamn it...'' Tony disdainfully answered, moving forward. ''Now, here is my ID. Check everything you need, and everyone will join the meeting in time, alright?'' The agent raised both arms as Jethro started heading to the main room, wishing he could have addressed his interlocutor with other targeted words. But no, he still needed money to pay the bill, right? He briefly noticed Gibbs meeting Vance halfway and soon paid attention to someone else. Tim, as expected, willingly showed his badge and approached another man. Tony tried to take a quick new look at him, but his teammate didn't bother at all to even notice. Maybe they could speak after the meeting. After all, they both had only one life, they shouldn't spend their existence loosing their friendship because of their egos. ''Hey...McGee'' he said as he walked to him, nervously smiling.

''What do you want, Tony?''

''I was wondering...maybe we could talk, you know, after the meeting. Maybe Ziva, and Palmer...they could join us.''

''To talk about what?'' Tim asked straight away, switching from bored to slightly upset again.

''I don't know...the case? Or whatever you want to tal...''

''Oh, I'm sorry, Tony. But like you said in the bullpen, I shouldn't be interrupting you when you are talking about serious matters. I think it might be a bit too _complicated_ for me to chat about such things.''

Tony suddenly stopped and grabbed his arm, feeling desperate inside.

''Okay,'' he continued, now entering Tim's stupid game, ''then we'll just act like normal beings and have a drink. How does it sound to you, uh, McGee?''

''Oh, you want me to have a drink with you, Tony?''

''Yeah...!'' the male agent commented, frustrated. ''You, me, and the team...whoever, I don't know!''

Tim got rid of Tony's grip and made a step forward, his eyes on him.

''Last time we went to a bar, Tony, you made jokes about how bad I was at drinking, dancing, and at flirting with women.''

''Hey, it's okay to make jokes, sometimes, Mc...''

''Not the whole night!'' Tim sighed and hid his deepest feelings, wishing to be soon out of this stupid conversation. ''Truth is that you don't need me, Tony.''

The second male agent revealed another nervous smile with bright teeth, trying to understand. The final punishment was about to begin, he could feel it. But after all these years, he must have seen it coming, right?

''What do you mean, Tim? Of course I _need_ you, we are agents, we are working together on cases, and...''

''I wasn't talking about work, Tony. Even though I seriously doubt more and more than I can be of any help for you in the team, I know we have things to do in order to solve cases. But as a _friend_, Tony...you don't need me. And I don't think I need you either, if I have to be honest'' he added in the end, not waiting for the other agent to interrupt his words.

Timothy McGee then left a speechless Tony alone and walked in Gibbs and Vance's direction, glad to know he might be helpful for someone at some point. He knew they had now to discuss about Smith's abilities online, and how to stop them from doing any more damage...

''The Director waits for us in the Red room. We've told him what are Smith's preoccupations', if I can say it that way...''

''So now he's gonna be under special protection, Leon?'' Gibbs asked, noticing Tim's arrival.

''He will, indeed. His family has already been sent to another location at the time we are speaking. Agent Fornell is waiting right there with a few members of his team,'' he explained, raising his head. ''Now all we have to do is wait for the rest of yours. Are Agents David and DiNozzo about to meet us soon?''

Leon Vance immediately noticed Gibbs' severe look, silently ordering Tony to hurry. He noticed Ziva coming, too, the woman robotically putting back her badge where it belonged after the checking. He briefly smiled and started moving, patting Jethro on the shoulder. He couldn't say why, but tension was clearly palpable between them all.

''Alright, ladies and gentlemen'' he said in an official way as he finally approached the meeting room, ''now please follow me to...''

It was as if everyone had started to inhale but had been interrupted in the middle of the process. As if a wave of indescribable heat had invaded the whole place. An explosive sound, capable to destroy any eardrums around brusquely echoed between the walls, pushing any alive being to a dead position.


	12. The last five minutes

Leon Vance sighed as he watched his reflection in the mirror, lost in his thoughts. He still had some bad scratches from that other night, and that bandage near his temple was making him look stupid. He briefly closed his eyes, as if to hide the pain his leg was still making him endure.

''Director?'' the woman interrupted, opening the door.

Leon Vance's eyelids reopened instantly, back to reality.

''What is it?'' he neutrally asked.

''They've found his car.''

''No one in, I presume?''

''No, sir. The Director just vanished after the explosion.''

''Well, then I wish he has blown away, otherwise...'' Vance kept speaking calmly, although he could feel he was getting nervous inside. ''_Sorry_'' he finally corrected, walking back to his desk. ''I would appreciate to be left alone for today. No meetings, unless it is an absolute necessity. I have a lot of phone calls to make.''

''We've sent another team to track him down, Director'' the woman added, as it to comfort him, watching him ready to sit.

''Thank you.''

The very last two words, followed by silence, were a polite way to invite any visitors to leave the office, and the female interlocutor understood it immediately. She'd been here for a very long time, now. And she also knew she couldn't tell him to go home and rest.

''Director?'' the woman added before closing the door.

''Yes?''

''I am glad you are alright.''

On these words, she finally left, and Vance now had the time to focus on seriouser matters, even though he wished he wouldn't have to. Someone had died on that horrible night, and soon he'd have to tell the others. He grabbed his team's personal files and started thinking about them all. And while he opened every each of them again, he let the obscurity enter his space, curtains half closed. The pain in his leg was reminding him of the recent event, and he didn't know how to understand all this. Should he feel grateful for being alive, or guilty for his survival? He heavily exhaled and grabbed a first picture and document along the piece of furniture, wondering what must have been this man's last five minutes...

* * *

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS

* * *

''...Truth is that you don't need me, Tony.''

''What do you mean, Tim? Of course I _need_ you, we are agents, we are working together on cases, and...''

''I wasn't talking about work, Tony. Even though I seriously doubt more and more than I can be of any help for you in the team, I know we have things to do in order to solve cases. But as a _friend_, Tony...you don't need me. And I don't think I need you either, if I have to be honest.''

Tony's hand stood still in the air for a few seconds, the man incapable to know what to do. To know what to think. Maybe Tim was right after all, maybe he had pushed him too far... But hadn't things always been that way? Tony endlessly exasperating people with his jokes, Gibbs' head slaps to his attention...Tim turning upset about all these very same jokes but still ending up spending some fun time with him...? But what if Tim was right and decided to work in another area, alone? No, Gibbs would never allow that. He'd make him pay for daring doing so...because he loves him...well, Gibbs' way. Tony quickly shook his head, his mind too full of confusing thoughts. All he knew was that very one thing: he couldn't lose his family. His NCIS family. That was all he had. Yes, he realized it now. He had sacrificed too much of his personal life to live without the very few other things he had left. He noticed Tim around Vance and Gibbs.

_'Hey, Tim, listen. I'm sorry, can we talk for a minute, privately?'_ he imagined saying, repeating the sentence in his head.

If only he had said so... To Tim. To anyone he had hurt in any way, in fact.  
But the minute later, he felt the heat burn his back, as if someone had just raised the temperature of the place to its highest level, and fell down. The last eyelid only needed a second to close completely, the man briefly thinking of the meaning of all this: _'I lived alone, and that's the exact same way I'll die.'_

* * *

Special Agent Ziva David, NCIS/ Former Mossad Agent

* * *

...Ziva entered the place with these same cold eyes, the ones always looking for the truth, and violence if necessary. She hated all these people betraying the country she now loved. Agents or not agents, guilty or not, there had been too many deaths, already. It _had_ to stop. She coldly smiled and showed her badge and ID to the man in front, still secretly upset and thinking. _Too many deaths. _She wished sometimes there was no justice anymore, only people solving problems all by themselves. Maybe this crazy world would be a little less crazy.

''Nice day, uh?'' she finally said out of nowhere, trying to make a little conversation.

''Sorry, what did you just say?'' the man asked, busy dealing with her belongings.

''Nothing'' she sharply answered. ''Keep doing...what you do.''

She didn't like meaningless conversations. And she wasn't good starting them. She had never been good at speaking, actually. She finally stopped talking and let the man check her coat and sleeves, discreetly observing the different groups around. She didn't like checkings. It made her feel guilty for something and she definitely wasn't.

_''What do you mean, Tim? Of course I need you, we are agents, we are working together on cases, and...''_

She squinted her eyes for a second, trying to read on Tony's lips, but the man asked her to turn around. Yes, she didn't know what was going on out there but Tony and Tim definitely hadn't worked things out. According to both their faces, DiNozzo wasn't about to enjoy the night, and neither would McGee.  
A minute later she could get back her coat, badge and ID. Vance seemed to get a little too impatient out there, so she decided to hurry up and join them. She wanted the truth, and maybe she wanted revenge, too, although she knew she couldn't think such things aloud.  
The next moment brought her back to her memories. It was like she had fell down on the Negev Desert's sand in Israel, under the burning sun... She watched the blurry silhouettes brusquely hit the floor, only thinking of one person...

_''Baba''_ she whispered before closing her eyes...

* * *

Special Agent Timothy McGee, NCIS

* * *

''...I wasn't talking about work, Tony. Even though I seriously doubt more and more than I can be of any help for you in the team, I know we have things to do in order to solve cases. But as a _friend_, Tony...you don't need me. And I don't think I need you either, if I have to be honest.''

Tim noticed Vance and Jethro speaking nearby. He didn't want to spend more time with Tony, and he knew they all had things to do, that was then the perfect moment to walk away. But even though he'd just need a few steps to join the older duet, he still couldn't help his mind from overthinking again. _Too many feelings. Too predictable. What a shame.  
_He sighed and briefly noticed Tony's hand, half standing in the air...maybe he was frustrated. He certainly was. Tony might be the kind of guys always joking and looking for some pretty girl to put in his bed, he remained a human being, like them all. Maybe that wasn't the life he wanted, and so he was making someone pay the price for it. Tim felt his eyes turn humid for a second but immediately held back the feeling.

_'What, Tim?'_ he thought. _'You're gonna play the sad guy again, thinking that maybe people like Tony didn't expect to spend their existence with someone like you? Everyone is worth it unless they decide they're not.'_

Tim discreetly bit his lip and invited his own feet to approach Gibbs and Vance. He_ was_ worth it. And Tony was only stupid, acting like a child, and frustrated. _Not his problem._ The minute later he watched Leon Vance start walking, himself about to follow the man. Then it was like having his head kicked by the wind, a dry one led by the flames of an inferno...  
Maybe that was the writer in his heart that made him describe it that way, or maybe it was just the world reminding him how little he was... He was glad of the life he had lived so far. It hadn't been that bad. But he wished he could have done more before dying.

* * *

Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS  
_Former U.S. Marine Corps Scout Sniper_

* * *

...Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't think at all about what had happened minutes, or even seconds before. His brain didn't mind remembering these men asking for his badge and ID, nor the giant space they had all been standing in, waiting for the meeting to start. Maybe that was years of solitary living in his basement that had made him focus on that very element: the explosion. He had given _everything_, he knew it now...although he knew, too, that he could have done more. He _should_ have. He _should_ have arrested more people, he _should_ have told the ones he loves how much he loved them. His own way, maybe, but at least some way.

_''What's wrong, probie? Wondering how it's like, the afterlife?''_ Mike's voice questioned him, a smile on his face.

He slowly closed his eyes, watching them all around, not knowing who was dead or who wasn't, probably too proud to be the first to face the obscurity... Not after all these years. He was stronger than that. He _should_ be.  
He briefly thought of the people he had the chance to meet and work with. How funny was that. He had ruined his personal life with work, stubbornness and bad decisions, but work had finally given him back everything he had always wanted. But did they really know that? And did he even really know that, himself? He weakly smiled in the middle of this burning mess, feeling exhausted, his back aching...  
What would happen to him right now? Would he be some kind of ghost haunting people and cemeteries, or would he simply face pure darkness? But more than anything, would he see them all on the other side, the numerous people he had lost in his life and wished so much to see again?

* * *

Leon Vance dropped the last file on his desk and rubbed his forehead, feeling so sad and preoccupied.  
He should get back to work. That was all he could do now, and there were funerals to prepare.


	13. Vance's discovery

Leon Vance waited nervously outside the hospital room, his knee shaking as his foot tapped the floor.

''Any news?'' he said all of a sudden, his voice surprising the nurse walking past him.

''I...I'm sorry, I don't know anything about this patient, I'm actually working in the other wing. I'm sure you'll get answers soon'' she pronounced in the end, patting him on the shoulder before leaving.

Leon Vance nodded and noticed the opposite smile. He wished his own was a bit more convincing, but he had probably failed at that, too. No agents, a bomb at a meeting...a kidnapped, then dead security agent. That wasn't worth a smile, was it? But he still didn't get it. Copying a case was a thing, whether or not the one responsible for that was out of his mind, or perfectly conscious. But the additional risks put aside, why not taking advantage of the situation? He had kidnapped a security agent, like someone had already done years ago. But why didn't he even try to get inside? Was Franky Smith so crazy but so looking for the truth that he wouldn't have done more than what's necessary? If they even knew why he had done such thing, then, would they have to thank him for his help or send it to jail? Maybe sometimes there was no good answer, if not no answer at all.

''I guess you don't have to think too much about me. I surrender.''

Leon jumped as he faced the man in front of him.

''Franky...'' he lowly pronounced, unsure if he was about to kill him or keep calm, his body and brain momentarily stuck between two emotions. Not being in his office made the situation a little more casual than usual, though. Maybe he could kill discreetly. ''What are you doing here, Smith?''

''I just told you, Director. I surrender. I'm just here to tell the truth.''

Leon Vance now stood up, finally able to make a decision, and confronted him. Straight to the point, like always.

''You're here for that? So what about telling me how my agents are gonna be doing? Can you tell me the truth about that, or is your definition of honesty limited to some technical details only?''

Another nurse walked past him and he immediately grabbed Franky's arm.

''I won't move.''

''Miss, I immediately need you to contact the security service of the hospital, I need handcuffs around this man's wrists, and the sooner the better.''

''Y-yes, sir...'' she immediately agreed, although she hadn't been ready to hear such order, herself simply looking for her morning coffee.

He refocused on Smith almost straight away, watching him being so calm and peaceful at the same time. Smith hadn't lied about one thing, at least: he wasn't moving at all. There wasn't a single movement under his grip. Now he knew that sounded very weird, but he could tell, somehow, that Franky Smith would keep his promise and not go away, no matter if he had handcuffs or not around his bones.

''_Security_ agent..._security_ service... I think the brain is something to take seriously, sometimes, Director. It _helps_ you.''

''And what are you, Smith? A professional? You have a medical degree you want to tell me about?''

''It just seems here like the topic is a bit recurrent. That's a bit boring, too, if I may tell you so.''

''Well, you don't! How do you even know what...'' The door in front finally opened, a doctor coming out. _''Any news?''_ Vance repeated and addressed, although this time to the right person.

''Your friend is alive'' the man smilingly said, visibly tired.

''Gibbs is alive?'' Leon kept asking, feelings of exhaustion, excitement and incredible hope mixing-up altogether in the giant pool of his brain.

''Of course he is.''

''Thank God...''

''And Agent McGee, too.''

''What?'' Vance suddenly added, confused.

''And Ziva, DiNozzo, the...''

_''Wait, how can you know about them all...''_ the director continued, nervously smiling with incomprehension. _''They're not all in the same room...I mean...''_

He felt the comforting hand on his shoulder, not caring anymore about Franky's presence.

''...the world is safe. Everyone is alive, Director Vance, and this, thanks to you. There is no more war, nor bombings, everyone is happy, and...''

''The security _is_ the problem, come on'' Franky insisted and showed up again in front of his eyes, calm and confident. ''That's what I said from the beginning. Maybe you should tell these little cells of yours to wake up and _do_ something!''

''I...I don't feel very well'' Vance almost apologized, in need of a seat again.

Then coming from a large hole of light, Gibbs stood next to his hospital room's door, looking peaceful.

_''Jethro...? How...'' _Vance continued questioning, trying getting rid of his tie.

''Now it's time, Leon'' he said, gently grinning. ''It's time to say goodbye.''

_''But I don't want to say goodbye. Too many...''_

_''Find the man, Leon''_ Gibbs' mouth insisted, watching his friend intending to breathe calmly.

Leon's vision then began to turn blurrier than ever, and light started to fully enter the space, blinding him completely...that's when he reopened his eyes and faced his dark office again that he realized he had just made a horrible dream.

_''God...''_ he said as he rubbed his face with desperation, trying to sit up on his sofa.

* * *

Vance went back to his desk and took a new look at the files, feeling desperate and exhausted. He _needed_ a coffee.  
Well, thinking back of it, maybe he needed a Xanax, too, but he guessed he could still have one the day he'd sleep under his blanket again. So much time had passed. Work hadn't been giving him too much space to relax within the last few years, and he guessed it was easier to suffer on a sofa. Sometimes it helped him focus less on the death of his wife, too... Okay, now he really needed a coffee, and since it was the only legal drug he could use from his office today, he'd make the effort to grab it himself. If he had to be honest, he seemed to forget more and more what the real outside looked like. Maybe he should go hiking, someday. _Why not..._  
So he finally exhaled one last time and walked to his large, silver door, pressing a palm on the handle.

''Director Vance, do you need anything?''

Leon opened his mouth and raised his head, ready to answer negatively, until he realized it wasn't a female voice talking to him.

''Smith.''

Franky kept his gun aimed at the woman behind the desk but slowly turned his head in Leon's direction, smiling.

''Surprise, surprise, Director Vance.''

Leon discreetly pinched the inside of his hand with the help of his nails, wondering...but he perfectly felt it. Yes, unfortunately this time, he _wasn't_ dreaming at all.

* * *

''...how does it feel, uh?''

Leon Vance slowly reopened his eyes, facing the man in front. He hadn't been slapped the worst way possible, if he had to be honest. Not enough to faint, at least. But he guessed his mind was still too confused about the 'dream or not to dream' thing to stay perfectly conscious after the blow.

''How does_ what_ feel? Your hand on my face, or the whole situation?'' the new victim asked, groaning.

''To know there are some people finally paying for what's they've done. Of course it isn't everything, but I guess we can't criticize small victories, can we.''

''This is enough!'' Leon started turning mad, slowly standing up, watching the gun pointed at him. ''You have to_ stop_ your little game, Smith, you can't play the hero forever!''

''I'm a genius, okay?'' The man pointed a finger at his chest, speaking fast. ''_I_ hacked a system nobody thought it was possible to hack, and this for what? To prove you had failed! I can still work on parallel cases, actually I am trying to save the world from people like you, who...''

''You know what, Smith? I am _not_ gonna say anymore that I'm sorry that everyone rejected you. Maybe you were not tall enough, fit enough, stupid enough, whatever...or maybe, like it's said in your files, you already had troubles with the law which made the process predictably impossible for the Navy, or the FBI, to...''

''I was cleared after that! This was a misunderstanding!'' Smith's arm started to shake, his gun's barrel threatening once more Leon's life.

''And trying to kill your best friend, may I consider it as a misunderstanding, too?''

''You know it goes further than that!''

''Alright, alright...'' the Director said, moving to his desk as if nothing was going on, too tired of that. He opened another file that was left in the corner, _the_ file, actually. ''So what about these suspicions a few people had about your capacity to think clearly? I know that you've been asked, as a part of your applications' process, to go through a mandatory examination, examination you obviously _didn't_ do...''

''So what?'' Franky now asked calmly. ''If they had found something, then what would it have meant? I'd have been rejected.''

''Who knows.''

''_I_ know! People can change the results. I've seen it in...''

_''Where?''_ Leon's voice became stronger, the man still sounding extremely calm but scarier, now. ''In the movies, Smith? In your imagination?''

''So _you_ say no one is corrupted?''

''I didn't say that.''

Smith tightened his hand around the gun again, looking dangerous. He could feel his eyes turn humid, although he tried to focus on the meaning of his words.

''All I did was to_ help_ you...''

''You could have done it so many other ways. You don't need to join a federal agency to stop criminals. But maybe it wouldn't have been enough, not 'exciting enough'...maybe being authorized to have a gun and legally use it _was_ the kind of power you were looking for...'' he added, disdainfully.

''People will remember me, whatever you decide. Their eyes will open and they'll realize they need more people like me to brave the system.''

''You are definitely someone smart with great abilities, obviously...you were able to hack, kidnap and kill. Looks like we've missed our chance with the admission'' he said bitterly, dropping the file on the desk.

''Yeah, you can try to play the good man, but thanks to me _three_ bad guys are dead. How much time does it take you to even arrest someone, and for the lawyers to stand a chance to win the trial, uh?''

''Too much time, apparently...''

''You should be _thankful_ for what I've done. I killed them!''

''But there were other people in this building!'' Leon Vance suddenly shouted, thinking back of the terrible past event.

Smith felt the drops of sweat along his forehead, tired, and wiped them off. He then approached Director Vance, who had no choice this time to sit carefully and lower his voice.

''That's enough, Director Vance. Now you'd better listen and stop trying to be the tough guy. I didn't lose much time trying to copy too many cases'' he almost whispered. ''All this work with no support...it takes an eternity, sometimes. But I chose this one because of what I'd found about the security agency.''

''The one in charge of both NCIS and FBI'' Leon pronounced and confirmed slowly, staring at the gun. Now it was really close to his face, he realized it. ''The other Director is missing, right?''

''He is, indeed'' Vance slowly spoke again, the gun coming even closer, next to his temple.

''Maybe you should have asked your team to do better researches. Hacking from time to time isn't such a bad thing, you know. People like you, who have the power...constantly do so. Everyone's data in the country is available for you, isn't it. But there is one thing I must agree about that: sometimes the end justifies the means, right?'' Leon Vance didn't take the time to agree. He wasn't an expert of the brain, but he could see the man wanted apologies. But there was something more urgent to take care of immediately. _''Right, Director?''_ Smith insisted.

''Cynthia, now I would like you to close your eyes, please'' Leon Vance said the calmest way possible, not showing fear anyhow. He didn't want her to be scared more than she already was. She had been there the whole time on the other side of the room, waiting for any extra potential sentence. "Cynthia?'' he continued. ''Would you do that for me?''

''Y-yes, Director'' she said after slightly hesitating, tears silently escaping from under her eyelids.

''Well, M. Smith, I want, in the name of all the agencies, to thank you for your great help'' he added, sounding very respectful.

The barrel now completely touched his skull, ready to throw bullets. But the criminal in front, how shaky he was, wasn't completely finished.

''Jersey would have been proud. We'd made such a lot of researches before he...''

''...before he got corrupted by us.'' Leon ended his sentence, extremely calm. ''Again, I would like to sincerely apologize for...''

_''Shut up!''_

The male victim immediately did so and waited. All he wished now was for the man to run away after his crime, for the woman to be alright. But she wasn't a figure of authority, and he knew, somehow, that she might still have a chance.

''Did you know, Director Vance,'' Smith finally said, proudly smiling, ''that all your so-called security men were former dangerous prisoners?''

The NCIS Director wished he could have been more surprised about it, if not completely upset, but he knew his moment had arrived and that he couldn't waste more time reacting to the incredible news.

''Everything's gonna be alright, Cynthia, now please keep your eyes closed...''

The bullet brusquely echoed in the whole office, Cynthia's scream meaning it was all over.


	14. Wake up and die

The man's body slightly begun to shake, as if to expulse blood and fears. Some red liquid escaped his mouth as another human reflexively grabbed his cheeks. Someone he hadn't expected to see.

_''Come on, stay with me Leon. Stay with me.''_

* * *

**Agent number one**

The agent felt so exhausted as he woke up that he thought a whole bunch of rhinos might have just crushed him under their giant paws. The headache coming along wasn't really appreciated either, although he guessed it must be some kind of reward for staying alive...

''Good morning'' the nurse said, joyful. ''I am glad you just woke up, Agent...''

''Where is that sound coming from?'' he immediately noticed, rubbing his face.

_God, how awful was it, to feel like crap._ He couldn't help but rub his temples as well, wishing that annoying ringing could stop immediately.

''It hasn't stopped, actually'' the woman said, as if she'd guessed his thoughts, taking something from a coat. ''It already rang three times, maybe that's what woke you up'' she added, visibly amused.

She held him the phone, letting him answer, and it almost scared her to see how his facial expression instantly switched from tired to ready-to-go. He said a few words, politely nodded and answered calmly before hanging up and starting to move.

''Wait, where are you going?'' the woman asked straight away, extremely concerned. ''You need to rest, tomorrow we'll have to recheck your...''

''Then I'll come back tomorrow. But now I really have to go.''

''Come on, this is a serious matter we are talking about, what can be more important than your health, Agent...''

''What about a federal agency not answering the new Secretary of Defense? Does it sound like a serious matter to you?''

''I...guess...'' the woman said, confused. ''But...''

She reflexively raised a hand in the air, wishing she could have advised something more to her stubborn patient, but the man was already gone.

* * *

_''...Leon. It's me...do you hear me?''_

The voice speaking was like a nice echo in the air, some sound which couldn't properly reach his ears. He noticed the additional blood on him, his eyes staring at nothing, or maybe at the silhouettes he couldn't identify at all...actually, he didn't really know. Something in his brain was telling him he knew the faces and voices, but it was like his mind had decided to stop working. Maybe that was it. Maybe he would die without the truth. Wait...so was someone else actually speaking in the room?

_''Did you call them?''_

_''I did before you arrived. They should be with us within a minute or so. But how possibly...are you okay, Agent...''_

_''Let's say it was perfect timing''_ he commented, keeping his eyes on Vance.

Leon Vance kept hearing these same voices nearby, although they still seemed too far for him to bother listening to them. _How ironic_. He had been trained for attempts of murder's situations, for deep wounds and blood, psychological tortures...but it was never the same when it was _really_ happening to you, wasn't it.

_''Cynthia...''_ he finally said out of nowhere, unable to tell if it was pure reflex or if he was actually seeing her around. _''Cynthia,''_ he repeated,_ ''I...''_

The door suddenly almost slammed, paramedics entering the office.

_''Don't try to speak. They're gonna take you out of here. Don't worry, we'll be coming with you.''_

Leon Vance kept staring at the invisible, the man still in a state of shock, and finally allowed himself to close his eyes, knowing he was now being taken in charge... He knew facing darkness could be a very dangerous thing, sometimes, but he had no energy to even think about staying alive...

* * *

**Agent number two**

The agent woke up with difficulty, his back aching. His legs and arms weren't treating him so well either, but he guessed it was better in some places. He sadly took a look at his skin, almost red. Hopefully the whole body wasn't like that. He sat up and got ready to leave his room. He _had_ to know how everybody was. _All in vain_.  
He sighed as he violently fell back to a sitting position, small groans escaping his mouth. _God, how awful was it, to feel like crap._  
He was taking a new look at the door, hoping for some kind of miracle, when he noticed an excited face coming. _Oh, dear._ Happy or extremely sad, there was no comparison to make. She _always_ was excited. The man immediately curved his body like a broken puppet, dramatically protecting his head and torso from the tornado coming.

_''Oh my God...!''_ she said as she almost ran to him, shouting his name into the hospital room. ''I am _so_ glad you're...''

_''PLEASE...!''_ The man tried to smile in the end to not upset her too much, lowering his voice, although it was really hard this time to not fear for his life. ''Uh...listen, I'm sorry, Abbs. But...no hugs. _Please?_'' he added, if not begged.

''I...uh...okay.'' Her body straightened, her words and finger pointed at him announcing an warning. ''But don't yell at me like that _ever again_, okay? You scared me to death!''

''_I_ scared you?''

''Okay'' she said, sighing. ''Can we just say we're both responsible for whatever we want to accuse the other one of, and move on like two grown-up people? I missed you too much to be mad at you.''

''Agreed'' the man smiled. ''Agreed.''

''Oh my God, I was so scared for each and every one of you...! They wouldn't let us see you after we heard of the bombing, you were sent directly to the emergency unit. But now you're here and I'm so glad...''

Now she had lowered her voice, and according to the agent, that told him a lot about how worried she'd been. People always were only thinking about the 'real' victims. But what about the other ones waiting for the news and left in the dark? He deeply exhaled as he suddenly noticed the puppy face, wishing he had never said so aloud.

''Okay, Abby...why don't we give each other a hug..._slowly_, though!'' he added immediately, watching her ready to wrap her arms around him. ''Alright...'' he whispered, watching her come in his direction. He softly patted her back once she finally got closer, very careful.

''Does it hurt?'' Abby wondered after some silent pause, sad.

''It hurts like hell, Abbs'' he commented, grinning. ''But I am glad you are here.''

They both stayed like that for a little while, none of them caring anymore about the time, nor the rest of the world. The man pressed both his lips against the other one, holding a tear... Yeah, he might have thought differently a minute ago, the NCIS agent was now relieved to have this crazy woman by his side. After all that had happened to the team, it was extremely nice to know he had a shoulder to lean on...

* * *

**Agent number three**

The agent woke up with a feeling that everything would be different from now. But the only question that same agent would really like to ask would be: 'Will this fresh new start be good for the team, or will it separate them forever?' Things hadn't been going really well even _before_ the bombing, so it was pretty hard to know now what would be the following step. Had anyone survived to this? Was there agents still working on that same case, or was NCIS shut down for a while? No, that was stupid. They couldn't do that...could they? The agent deeply exhaled, feeling helpless for not knowing anything of what was going on in the world. Not even a single friend, or even a nurse, waiting next to the bed... _God, how awful was it, to feel like crap. _

''Can I come in?''

The face looked very excited, although the voice was trying to be very calm. Was someone advising her from behind?

''Y-yeah...of course. P-please come in...'' the words escaped, confused and so emotional at the same time.

At this point it was hard to know what this brain was really thinking. Was it happiness? Deep sadness? Anxiety, maybe, and thankfulness for being alive...

''Can I hug you?'' Abby asked directly, shyly, though.

''Oh _yes_, Abby. Please do.''

There was a smile along the other guest's lips, the smile of someone who had expected the question to be asked. At least she had had what she wanted straight away, this time.

''Oh my God, Timmy, there was _no way_ I could have come back to work if I'd heard you were not part of the team anymore...!'' the woman spit the words instantly, brusquely wrapping her arms around Tim's neck. She couldn't care if he was suffering from his injuries, he had said 'yes'. ''How are you...? I mean, how do you feel?'' she then attacked him with gentle questions, grabbing his face between her palms. ''I...oh my God, there is nothing I can say, I just missed you so much...!'' she finished her confusing speech, hugging him once more.

''Come on in...'' McGee finally addressed to the other one, waiting by the door. ''There's enough love in here to be shared.''

Abby smiled and moved away from her new prisoner, happily watching. The other one took out his hand from his pocket and shyly left his spot, smiling. Abby kept herself from instantly making the duet suffocate and let them meet again for a minute, curious and proud. _They were her men..._ Tim felt the tired arm pat his back, then faced the agent again.

''I am glad you're here, Tony.''

''Not as glad as I am, McGee.''

''So...pretty bad, uh?'' he asked, pointing a finger at Tony's arm.

''Well, doctors said I could get rid of it soon, but then Abby hugged me and I'm pretty sure it's broken even more, now.''

''Ah-ah...'' she immediately mocked him, welcoming the male arm behind her back.

''I'm so glad you are here...'' Tim kept sharing his grateful thoughts, vulnerable. ''Ev...everything's gonna be alright, now? Gibbs is alright? Ziva, Vance... Was there a lot of survivors out there?'' he questioned his friends and teammates. ''God...I don't even know for all long I've been conscious, I...''

''Don't worry about that, McGee. We all pretty much faced the sunlight at the same time. We're too coordinated'' Tony smiled, although there was some sadness he couldn't hide.

Tony was usually grumpy, but not sad enough times to be able to perfectly hide it, and Tim knew it well.

''What's wrong, Tony? Abby?'' he named her too, looking for more explanations. ''Did some agents...''

''Some did survive, some others not'' Tony pronounced, neutral.

''Well...that had to be expected. Right...?''

''Right.''

''Tim...'' Abby lowly started talking, sitting next to him. ''There is something you need to know...''

Tony didn't comment this time but approached him a bit too, as if to show some kind of support.

''Did something happen to someone we know...?'' Tim questioned her, feeling anxious. ''But who? We knew a lot of persons in the building, we... I felt it'' he added in the end, swallowing with difficulty. ''I...Abby, Tony...can someone tell me anything?''

He reflexively tried to stand up but the pain in his stomach, in addition with the stress, pushed him back against the hospital bed.

''Timmy...there's gonna be a funeral tomorrow afternoon.''

Abby stopped talking for a minute, looking overwhelmed. For once she wished she could have had loud music to play. Maybe the beats would haven hidden her distress and kept her away from thinking.

''But if you are here, Tony, and if this is someone we know, that means...''

Tim stopped speaking as well for an instant, expecting the worst.

Tony took a look at both his friends. It was like they were all ready to cry... How was it possible? How was it possible to feel so grateful for being alive and to feel so guilty for the ones left behind? And the sunny weather outside wasn't helping at all. In fact, the day couldn't have been more beautiful, and they were all about to mourn. Life could be such a horrible monster, sometimes... He reflexively tried to cross his arms, nervous, but the pain stopped him.

''Guess who, McGee...'' he ended up saying, sighing with desperation, now feeling the tears ready to escape from his eyes, too.


	15. You know how I feel

The man opened his eyes in a hospital room, feeling lost and lonely. He closed them almost instantly, trying to remember...  
He could hear Director Vance ask for Cynthia to face darkness, to not see the blood about to stain his clean skin... He could hear the shot...  
Too many memories, and still, nothing clear.

''Wait,'' he brusquely thought, ''_I_ am...''

His face froze as he noticed the man standing near the door, fearing for his life. His eyes immediately switched from left to right, watching the hands approach his face.

''All good, Leon, it's only me. Breathe.''

Leon's previous red and inflated facial skin slowly returned to normal, his eyes on Gibbs.

''Sorry...just a regular reflex'' he dryly reacted, fighting the reappearance of an old vision.

The man suddenly remembered Smith's blood on his face, the disgusting remains of his brain sliding along his skin...

''Hey. You're in a safe place, okay?'' Gibbs insisted, noticing the terror in his friend's eyes again.

''Okay'' the NCIS Director repeated, sitting up. ''Okay.''

''No, don't try to move, Leon. All you need now is to rest, you hear me? I'm serious.''

''And who tells me that, uh?'' Vance sighed and retorted instantly, trying to chase any proof of weakness. ''Jethro's ghost or the real old Gibbs who survived an explosion? I've been going through so many dreams lately I'm afraid I'm not the best at analyzing the truth.''

''It's me for sure. _And_ I'm not that old.''

''Yeah, right. Believe me, Gibbs, if I'm old, you are.''

''It's a mind thing'' Leroy briefly chuckled. Jethro finally helped his friend finding a better position by placing a pillow behind the stubborn man's back. ''Now you have some rest'' he calmly insisted.

''I haven't been hurt anywhere, thanks. I am not impotent yet.''

''Well, according to the shock you've gone through, your body will certainly be extremely rusted. _Now_ _rest_'' he concluded.

''Everybody's alright?'' Leon Vance dared asking when Jethro ended up sitting next to the bed.

''Doing their best.''

''How is Cynthia?'' he questioned then almost robotically, having so many things to say.

''She'll be better. She was very brave. She stayed with me all the time, worrying about you. I asked for a shrink appointment. She'll be alright after some sessions and some deserved vacations, too.''

''I should have given her vacations a long time ago...for all the work she's done'' he took time ending his sentence.

''First pain?''

''Why in the world does it...hurt that much?'' Leon groaned.

''The body remembers.''

The man pushed his head against the mattress, feeling desperate.

''If only I'd given her some free days sooner, then maybe it…''

''So now what? You're gonna torture yourself for no reason when there was nothing else you could have done?''

''Never say there is nothing else. I am the Director of NCIS, there is always something I can do. Well, if I still deserve that name before I come back to…''

''Enough, Leon.''

Vance obediently stopped and sighed, although reluctantly, taking a look at the room, feeling powerless. Gibbs was probably right. And even if he wasn't, it was certainly too late to even try to work things out anymore.

''How are _you_, Jethro?'' he finally asked the question, going straight to the point.

Gibbs' both hands reflexively joined, rubbing each other.

''Doing my best.''

Leon Vance intended sitting up again, staring at the man.

''Come on, Jethro, keep that for your team when you'll have to show who the big boss is, but not with me.''

Gibbs instinctively stood up and approached the door, obviously running away from the situation.

''Didn't tell I was okay, Leon'' he neutrally said.

''I know. And I thank you for that'' Director Vance neutrally said back as if to make him stay, knowing it was too early to push him. ''I guess I see you later, then'' he sadly smiled in the end, sensing there was no more words to add.

''You will, Leon. Take care.''

''Will do. Thank you for passing by. _And remember you're a patient too!_'' his voice echoed from his room.

* * *

...Gibbs entered Ducky's working area, looking for the body. He didn't react when the ME respectfully told him the agent was ready to be buried, nor when he dared asking him how he was feeling. He could perfectly hear the silence of the place, and he was almost enjoying it. There was no additional voice needed to remind him it would be a terrible moment.  
Soon every agents who would have survived or simply stayed alive would pay their respects to someone who had done so much for the country. Soon people would cry, laugh, forget, or maybe keep their feelings for themselves, trying to go through an umpteenth disastrous and still so basic moment of the existence: death.  
It was always too soon…right?

* * *

Leroy Jethro Gibbs breathed out and kept the tears away, looking at it. Existence always seemed like something so long and vast at first, something we could almost make longer every new generation...so why this representation looked so minimalist in his mind ? Thinking of it, he realized he had never really cared about such thing in the past, but recent events had been so powerful that he was now struggling with what was supposed to be his usual opinion.

''Are you gonna be okay, boss?''

''Are you?''

Tim reflexively raised a hand in the air, politely fighting the interruption.

''No, boss, answer me first.'' He noticed Jethro slightly roll his eyes but kept speaking this time, decided. ''Okay, I...Listen, I know we don't usually have to ask these kind of questions...not to _you_, obviously, but...boss. I _need_ to know, for once. Are you gonna be okay?''

Jethro replaced his feet on the ground and raised his chin, looking proud. He then straightened and controlled his facial expression, about to spit the words. Tim was decided, he could see it.

''I hope to be, Tim. That's all I can say.''

''T-thank you, boss...that's all I wanted to hear.''

''Hopes?'' the man briefly smiled.

''Honesty. Alright, I'll wait for you near the car.''

Jethro couldn't help but smile a bit again. McGee was being respectful, for sure, and he definitely wasn't the kind of person with second thoughts. But hell he was learning well, at least unconsciously.

''Wait, McGee'' he said, a hand on his shoulder.

''Yes, boss?'' Tim wondered, turning back.

''Your turn.''

''My turn?''

''You didn't tell me how you felt.''

Tim sadly smiled at the request, staring at the grave.

''Like Director Vance, I guess.''

Jethro slightly moved his face, curious.

''What do you mean?''

Tim briefly chuckled, his eyes looking away from his boss.

''I mean I'll enter NCIS every day suspicious as a dog ready to bite. I will look at the ones supposed to be in charge of our security as if they all are traitors threatening our lives, I...''

The hand hadn't left his shoulder. Actually, it was weighing even more, showing comfort.

''Trust will come back, McGee. _One day_'' he added instantly, noticing his agent ready to disagree. ''I do hope you understand that this is our job to protect each other, no matter what. That's why we're called 'agents'.''

Tim quickly inhaled and suddenly felt the tears ready to come, his mind controlling their potential falling.

''It's just...it's...this...''

''It's alright, Tim.''

''No...boss, this...this agent, like you said...I could have saved his life. If only I had tracked Smith down in time...''

Tim momentarily closed his eyes, remembering the bodies falling around him at that very moment...they had been a few to survive this without help, but what about the others who could have survived, too? Shouldn't he have helped them? He tried to slowly exhale this time, eyes still closed, feeling the palm not leaving his shoulder... In the end it didn't matter if there was finally a conclusion to this episode. He felt responsible for this death, and he knew he'd remember this pain forever.

''You are not responsible for that death, McGee, nor any other'' Gibbs shared his opinion, guessing his thoughts. ''We are a team. You were not responsible for finding Smith all by yourself, nor for stopping his actions and psychiatrical symptoms all alone. Sometimes it happens. We're just too late. Lacking informations.''

''Are we not, really, boss? Responsible.'' Tim lowly wondered, facing the light again. ''Are you really sure about that?'' he insisted. Jethro didn't answer back but seriously observed his agent. Maybe McGee was right to be unsure. Maybe they actually _were_ responsible. ''I wait for you near the car.''

Jethro simply nodded and watched his young agent leave, now staring at the sky for a brief moment, worried and thoughtful. He finally heard the steps and waited for the newcomer to come closer, quiet.

''That was a great agent we had here, Gibbs.''

Leon Vance slowly approached from behind and finally stood next to where Jethro was, arms crossed.

''I agree, Director'' he said with a personal neutral tone, not blinking a bit.

A few words followed the peaceful silence, someone carefully speaking.

''Why do I feel like something is bothering you?'' Vance asked in the end.

''Why should something bother me, Director?'' Gibbs asked him back, still staring at the infinite landscape.

Vance smiled.

''Yeah, I think I already heard that one.''

Jethro's front hair slightly fled, sun accompanying the soft breeze, lightening the calm outside. He silently breathed in and out again, before turning back.

''It's not important how we end up. What matters is how we live.''

''That is certainly true.''

Leon coldly nodded, not daring crossing the line. It was hard dealing with mourning when someone wouldn't accept taking a five-minute break with his emotions.

''Go home and spend time with your family, that is what really matters.''

''A wise man, like always...''

''I never said so.''

A hand clumsily grabbed his forearm all of a sudden.

''Gibbs, I am sorry for your loss.''

Grey hair stopped flying, his eyes on him, but seeming so far away at the same time.

''It's just a stone, Leon.''

''I know.''

''Don't stay here for too long, Leon, focus on the living. You know where to find me'' he ended saying, noticing the tired facial traits.

The NCIS Special Agent slowly pronounced his last few words and gently patted him on the shoulder, finally leaving. Leon Vance then watched him respectfully crush the grass, walking away, and sighed. He took off his black hat, ready to say it aloud and alone. It was obvious what was Gibbs' frustration all about, even if it was just a way to escape reality for a while, replacing one pain by another... Stone looked pretty small for someone who had lived.

''Well,'' he spoke once more, clearing his throat, ''I think it is my turn to say goodbye...'' Leon Vance pressed his hat against his chest, his long coat stroking his ankles. ''It won't be long'' he said as a promise, smiling. ''Like our dear friend Jethro, it seems like I've never been good with long speeches. Well,'' he added, nervous, ''do rest in peace, Agent Fornell.''

A bunch of birds suddenly fled next to him, the sound of their wings, cutting the air, covering the one of his own voice. Leon closed his eyes for a second and enjoyed the feeling of the wind on his face, stroking his tired cheeks.

Today was a beautiful day.


End file.
